Moonlight striking upon a Chess-Board
I am so aching to write
That I could make s song out of a chess-board
And rhyme the intrigues of knights and bishops
And the hollow fate of a checkmated king.
I might have been a queen, but I lack the proper century,
I might have been a poet, but where is the adventure to
explode me into fame.
Cousin Moon, our kinship is curiously demonstrated,
For I, too, am a bright, cold corpse
Perpetually circling above a living world.
- Amy Lowell (Selected Poems)