Two daughters who seemed to be listening. Was I the mother, was not this our house? Naria half-slept seeping out of a nightmare like yellow smoke. Beyond that - @3was it cold by the lake today?@1 the chill of this child whose star dazzled elsewhere - ash. I had to go without a single light. May Claire's hair be down, may the lace canopy never entirely cover her most perfect quality, ennui. Even as she sleeps I trespass, counting the lonely mansion railings of her spine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOSEPH DIXON by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IF WE MUST DIE by CLAUDE MCKAY HYMN TO SANTA RITA; THE PATRON SAINT OF THE IMPOSSIBLE by ALVEY AUGUSTUS ADEE PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY OF HENRY THE EIGHTH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE WAGES OF PRIDE by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE ECHOES OF SPRING: 1 by MATHILDE BLIND THE AUTHOR'S FRIEND TO THE READER by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |