In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm- Pink, lank and warm- But as he was a worm And worms presume Not quite with him at home- Secured him by a string To something neighboring And went along. A Trifle afterward A thing occurred I'd not believe it if I heard But state with creeping blood- A snake with mottles rare Surveyed my chamber floor In feature as the worm before But ringed with power- The very string with which I tied him-too When he was mean and new That string was there- I shrank-"How fair you are"! Propitiation's claw- "Afraid," he hissed "Of me"? "No cordiality"- He fathomed me- Then to a Rhythm Slim Secreted in his Form As Patterns swim Projected him. That time I flew Both eyes his way Lest he pursue Nor ever ceased to run Till in a distant Town Towns on from mine I set me down This was a dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS INEVITABLY (1) by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 6 by CLARENCE MAJOR NEBUCHADNEZZAR: OR EATING GRASS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: AMOS SIBLEY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |