 |
|
|
A Process in the Weather of the Heart
|
|
|
|
|
User Rating:
|
|
5.9
/10
(75 votes)
|
|
|
|
| |
A process in the weather of the heart
Turns damp to dry; the golden shot
Storms in the freezing tomb.
A weather in the quarter of the veins
Turns night to day; blood in their suns
Lights up the living worm.
A process in the eye forwarns
The bones of blindness; and the womb
Drives in a death as life leaks out.
A darkness in the weather of the eye
Is half its light; the fathomed sea
Breaks on unangled land.
The seed that makes a forest of the loin
Forks half its fruit; and half drops down,
Slow in a sleeping wind.
A weather in the flesh and bone
Is damp and dry; the quick and dead
Move like two ghosts before the eye.
A process in the weather of the world
Turns ghost to ghost; each mothered child
Sits in their double shade.
A process blows the moon into the sun,
Pulls down the shabby curtains of the skin;
And the heart gives up its dead.
Dylan Thomas
| Submitted Date |
: |
Friday, January 03, 2003 |
|
|
Read poems about / on: weather, child, moon, wind, sea, death, heart, sun, light, world, night, sleep, children
|
|
 |
Poets
