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

The Fury Of God's Good-bye

Anne Sexton

One day He
tipped His top hat
and walked
out of the room,
ending the arguement.
He stomped off
I don't give guarentees.
I was left
quite alone
using up the darkenss.
I rolled up
my sweater,
up into a ball,
and took it 
to bed with me,
a kind of stand-in
for God,
what washerwoman 
who walks out
when you're clean
but not ironed.
When I woke up
the sweater
had turned to
bricks of gold.
I'd won the world
but like a
forsaken explorer,
I'd lost
my map.

Anonymous submission.

Added: 14 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 15 Jan 2021 12:21 PM | Viewed: 7585 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/7817/ | Viewed on 15 January 2021.
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