Thursday
And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday-- So much is true.
And why you come complaining Is more than I can see. I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what Is that to me?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday-- So much is true.
And why you come complaining Is more than I can see. I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what Is that to me?
A lover comes complaining, and the speaker answers with a shrug. She admits she loved him on Wednesday, but that was then. By Thursday, the feeling is simply gone. The poem’s wit comes from how calmly she refuses to treat that change as a problem.
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