dots-menu
×

Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Helen Hoyt

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

Memory

Helen Hoyt

From “The Harp”

I CAN remember our sorrow, I can remember our laughter;

I know that surely we kissed and cried and ate together;

I remember our places and games, and plans we had—

The little house and how all came to naught—

Remember well:

But I cannot remember our love,

I cannot remember our love.