I LOOK at the swaling sunset And wish I could go also Through the red doors beyond the black-purple bar. I wish that I could go Through the red doors where I could put off My shame like shoes in the porch, My pain like garments, And leave my flesh discarded lying Like luggage of some departed traveller Gone one knows not where. Then I would turn round, And seeing my cast-off body lying like lumber, I would laugh with joy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK by WILLIAM COWPER THE CAGED GOLDFINCH by THOMAS HARDY THE MOCKING BIRD by SIDNEY LANIER SONNET: 14. ON THE RELIGIOUS MEMORY OF CATHERINE THOMASON by JOHN MILTON THE HOUSE OF LIFE: 70. THE HILL-SUMMIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI SILEX SCINTIALLANS: THEY ARE ALL GONE by HENRY VAUGHAN |