Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch,
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!—
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
Theodore Roethke's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Root Cellar by Theodore Roethke )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Their Light, Liilia Talts Morrison
- Who Are All These Girls?, LUVinThe NOW
- My Hill, Jack Meads
- i wore it out, Mandolyn Davidson
- do you love this?, Mandolyn Davidson
- Verbal Abuse Of Controlling People, Lilly Emery
- Into the rain, Tom Squires
- Come, Come... ~~~Rumi, LUVinThe NOW
- missing the exit, Mandolyn Davidson
- Retirement, Ruth Walters