Anne Sexton

(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974 / Newton, Massachusetts)

Anne Sexton Poems

1. Song For A Lady 8/7/2015
2. Some Foreign Letters 3/29/2010
3. The Legend Of The One-Eyed Man 3/29/2010
4. The Fury Of Overshoes 3/29/2010
5. The Fury Of Cooks 3/29/2010
6. The Child Bearers 3/29/2010
7. The Fury Of Jewels And Coal 3/29/2010
8. The House 3/29/2010
9. Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall 3/29/2010
10. The Firebombers 3/29/2010
11. The Kite 3/29/2010
12. Torn Down From Glory Daily 3/29/2010
13. The Road Back 3/29/2010
14. Where I Live In This Honorable House Of The Laurel Tree 3/29/2010
15. The Lost Ingredient 3/29/2010
16. The Touch 3/29/2010
17. Raccoon 3/29/2010
18. The Author Of The Jesus Papers Speaks 3/29/2010
19. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts 3/29/2010
20. The Break Away 3/29/2010
21. The Fury Of Rain Storms 3/29/2010
22. Hutch 3/29/2010
23. The Bells 3/29/2010
24. The Errand 3/29/2010
25. The Stand-Ins 3/29/2010
26. The Expatriates 3/29/2010
27. The Fury Of Earth 3/29/2010
28. The Angel Food Dogs 3/29/2010
29. The Break 3/29/2010
30. The Balance Wheel 3/29/2010
31. The Waiting Head 3/29/2010
32. The Division Of Parts 3/29/2010
33. The Wedding Ring Dance 3/29/2010
34. Old Dwarf Heart 3/29/2010
35. The Fury Of Guitars And Sopranos 3/29/2010
36. The Fury Of God's Good-Bye 3/29/2010
37. The Assassin 3/29/2010
38. What's That 3/29/2010
39. That Day 3/29/2010
40. Old 3/29/2010
Best Poem of Anne Sexton

45 Mercy Street

In my dream,
drilling into the marrow
of my entire bone,
my real dream,
I'm walking up and down Beacon Hill
searching for a street sign -
namely MERCY STREET.
Not there.

I try the Back Bay.
Not there.
Not there.
And yet I know the number.
45 Mercy Street.
I know the stained-glass window
of the foyer,
the three flights of the house
with its parquet floors.
I know the furniture and
mother, grandmother, great-grandmother,
the servants.
I know the cupboard of Spode
the boat of ice, solid silver,
where the ...

Read the full of 45 Mercy Street

Her Kind

have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,

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