Richard Buckner
Julia Miller
We quarreled that morning, For he was sixty-five, and I was thirty, And I was nervous and heavy with the child Whose birth I dreaded. I thought over the last letter written meBy that estranged young soul Whose betrayal of me I had concealed By marrying the old man. Then I took morphine and sat down to read. Across the blackness that came over my eyesI see the flickering light of these words even now: ?And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To-day thou shalt Be with me in paradise.?
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