Our quarrel seemed a giant thing, <br />It made the room feel mean and small, <br />The books, the lamp, the furniture, <br />The very pictures on the wall-- <br /> <br />Crowded upon us as we sat <br />Pale and terrified, face to face. <br />"Why do you stay?" she said, "my room <br />Can never be your resting place." <br /> <br />"Katinka, ere we part for life, <br />I pray you walk once more with me." <br />So down the dark, familiar road <br />We paced together, silently. <br /> <br />The sky--it seemed on fire with stars! <br />I said:--"Katinka dear, look up!" <br />Like thirsty children, both of us <br />Drank from the giant loving cup. <br /> <br />"Who were those dolls?" Katinka said <br />"What were their stupid, vague alarms?" <br />And suddenly we turned and laughed <br />And rushed into each other's arms.<br /><br />Katherine Mansfield<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-quarrel-2/
