Why do you follow me?—
Any moment I can be
Nothing but a laurel-tree.

Any moment of the chase
I can leave you in my place
A pink bough for your embrace.

Yet if over hill and hollow
Still it is your will to follow,
I am off;—to heel, Apollo!

by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Comments (1)

Like this little poem. It makes me envision a girl playing hard to get and laughing at the fellow chasing her around. Way to go Edna! ! ! !