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More poems by Anne SextonAnne Sexton | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (2) | Books by Anne SextonBooks by Anne Sexton

Young

Anne Sexton

A thousand doors ago
when I was a lonely kid
in a big house with four
garages and it was summer
as long as I could remember,
I lay on the lawn at night,
clover wrinkling over me,
the wise stars bedding over me,
my mother's window a funnel
of yellow heat running out,
my father's window, half shut,
an eye where sleepers pass,
and the boards of the house
were smooth and white as wax
and probably a million leaves
sailed on their strange stalks
as the crickets ticked together
and I, in my brand new body,
which was not a woman's yet,
told the stars my questions
and thought God could really see
the heat and the painted light,
elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight.


Anonymous submission.

Added: 2 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 15 Oct 2018 6:05 PM | Viewed: 23820 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4570/ | Viewed on 15 October 2018.
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