Loving me with my shoes off
means loving my long brown legs,
sweet dears, as good as spoons;
and my feet, those two children
let out to play naked. Intricate nubs,
my toes. No longer bound.
And what's more, see toenails and
all ten stages, root by root.
All spirited and wild, this little
piggy went to market and this little piggy
stayed. Long brown legs and long brown toes.
Further up, my darling, the woman
is calling her secrets, little houses,
little tongues that tell you.
There is no one else but us
in this house on the land spit.
The sea wears a bell in its navel.
And I'm your barefoot wench for a
whole week. Do you care for salami?
No. You'd rather not have a scotch?
No. You don't really drink. You do
drink me. The gulls kill fish,
crying out like three-year-olds.
The surf's a narcotic, calling out,
I am, I am, I am
all night long. Barefoot,
I drum up and down your back.
In the morning I run from door to door
of the cabin playing chase me.
Now you grab me by the ankles.
Now you work your way up the legs
and come to pierce me at my hunger mark
Anne Sexton's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Barefoot by Anne Sexton )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
(12 June 1819 – 23 January 1875)
RoseAnn V. Shawiak
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 1, 1921)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(17 June 1867 – 2 September 1922)
- WH Auden
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Poetry of A Root Crop, Charles Kingsley
- Prophecy of a Ten Ton Cheese, James McIntyre
- Orchard Trees, January, Richard Wilbur
- The Fury Of Guitars and Sopranos, Anne Sexton
- Housewife, Anne Sexton
- A Legacy, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
- No, I'm not Byron; I am, yet, Mikhail Yuryevich Lermontov
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- A Sad Child, Margaret Atwood