Words for the Chisel (collection)/A Story

by Genevieve Taggard

For works with similar titles, see Story.

A Story

Love came a little too late,Bringing hunger and danger and hate;

With these she made up her bed;With these devoured sparse bread;

These, the gifts of her fate,Splendor and sorrow,—then lateWave on wave, insteadCame hunger and danger and hate.

There was love, but frail with the weightOf hunger and danger and hate.—These I endured, she said.

These she endure. They are great.She is greater than these. She is dead.