I had forgotten how the frogs must sound
After a year of silence, else I think
I should not so have ventured forth alone
At dusk upon this unfrequented road.


I am waylaid by Beauty.  Who will walk
Between me and the crying of the frogs?
Oh, savage Beauty, suffer me to pass,
That am a timid woman, on her way
From one house to another!

by: Edna St. Vincent Millay

from: Second April


I offer you this poem (a favorite of mine) because it reminds me of beauty of the world outside this hospital. The memory of that “savage beauty” is part of what keeps me focused on getting better. I want to hear the “crying on the frogs” from the bridge to Gansett Beach again next summer.