Yvor Winters

(1900 - 1968 / United States)

The Precision - Poem by Yvor Winters

God spoke once in the dark: dead sound
in the dead silence. I turned
in my sleep.
      I slept and sank away.
Then breath by breath I rose
a rigid skeleton
of thought spread over all the
night maintained by faith alone afraid
to waken, nay, afraid to stir
in sleep.

       ;I, face to face
with my own image.

       ;Mine, Rock, thought, and
rock. Concrete the flesh - it lay
within me, turned, cold
in the living sheets.

Suspended on cold iron, branded on air.


Comments about The Precision by Yvor Winters

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: concrete, sleep, faith, silence, rose, alone, dark, god, night



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



[Hata Bildir]