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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 Goodbye

Anne Sexton

One day He 
tipped His top hat 
and walked 
out of the room, 
ending the argument. 
He stomped off 
I don't give guarantees. 
I was left 
quite alone 
using up the darkness 
I rolled up 
my sweater, 
up in a ball, 
and took it 
to bed with me, 
a kind of stand-in 
for God, 
that 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. 

Submitted by RW

Added: 24 Feb 2003 | Last Read: 15 Jan 2021 12:14 PM | Viewed: 7005 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/8036/ | Viewed on 15 January 2021.
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