The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
Purrs all day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Ung ung ogga ogg uga unga unga
...This poem.....reminds me of the depression in the back of my head.....so sad....!
hey im mckinzie lytkle sub to me
what is the Imagery of this poem
so u dont know everything
If you liked this poem go to www.mekons.de/home/liver7.htm this poet Adrian Henri is a great poet! ! ! TRUST ME! ! ! !
njjkj n, nmkjnkljhJJHHHHHHHHHHHHNBGTFVTYBYGBYGBYG VYVBYGYTGVGYVBYTBGYBGYGBYTBYTBGYHBUHNUYUGBYVBVTYGBYTGBYT
Extraordinary how he uses the common details of a January day to set us down in a place and time that then becomes a piece of our memory- -I'm way too young to have had milk delivered in bottles to my door step and experience their breaking because they froze yet now it feels as though I had experienced it.
very fine, I like it, touching..
...........winter has it's own special charms....nice...
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
7/30/2021 12:26:35 AM # 18.104.22.1686