Wallace Stevens (October 2, 1879 – August 2, 1955 / Pennsylvania / United States)
The light is like a spider.
It crawls over the water.
It crawls over the edges of the snow.
It crawls under your eyelids
And spreads its webs there--
Its two webs.
The webs of your eyes
To the flesh and bones of you
As to rafters or grass.
There are filaments of your eyes
On the surface of the water
And in the edges of the snow.
Wallace Stevens's Other Poems
- A Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock
- A High-Toned Old Christian Woman
- A Postcard From The Volcano
- A Rabbit As King Of The Ghosts
- Anecdote of the Jar
- Another Weeping Woman
- Bantams in Pine-woods
- Continual Conversation With A Silent Man
- Contrary Theses (II)
- Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock
- Domination Of Black
- Farewell To Florida
- Final Soliloquy of the Interior Paramour
- Frogs Eat Butterflies, Snakes Eat Frogs,...
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