The Poet

Author | Anna Konradi

I wandered lonely, he begins,
When on my couch he lies
Barefaced, through guiltless teeth,
Spinning tales of bliss and daffodils
From his lips drips whiskey venom, but
To be drunk and stumbling with his words
Is to forget that golden waves
Will never dance in Here and Now
A poet could not be but false,
If not wicked or mislead;
From his pensive mood the poet wakes,
Unsettled by my disbelief
Though I have wandered countless times
Through the vales and hills,
In Here and Now I’ve never met
The bliss of dancing daffodils
And it is bliss, this golden field,
Of which I never knew;
Here my soul with pleasure soars
Here a poet could not be but true

About the Author | Anna Konradi is a freshman at Washington University in St. Louis, where she is a Howard Nemerov Writing Scholar. She grew up in Dallas, Texas and attended The Episcopal School of Dallas all the way from elementary school to senior year. Besides writing, her favorite pastimes include taking mediocre pictures and trying out new coffee shops.