A Burnt Offering
Because there was no wind. The smoke of your letters hung in the air For a long time ; And its shape
Was the shape of your face. My Beloved.
Amy Lowell
Because there was no wind. The smoke of your letters hung in the air For a long time ; And its shape
Was the shape of your face. My Beloved.
The speaker burns a lover’s letters, an act the title frames as a sacrifice—a burnt offering. Because there is no wind, the smoke doesn’t scatter. It hangs in the air, and as it lingers, the speaker sees in it the shape of the beloved’s face.
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