Margaret Atwood Poems
|1.||Death of a Young Son by Drowning||6/23/2015|
|2.||The Circle Game||9/8/2015|
|4.||They Eat Out||10/21/2006|
|7.||The Shadow Voice||1/2/2004|
|9.||Backdropp Addresses Cowboy||1/2/2004|
|10.||Sekhmet, The Lion-Headed Goddess Of War||1/3/2003|
|11.||In The Secular Night||1/3/2003|
|13.||More And More||1/3/2003|
|15.||Flying Inside Your Own Body||1/3/2003|
|17.||The City Planners||1/3/2003|
|20.||Morning In The Burned House||1/20/2003|
|21.||Variations On The Word Love||1/3/2003|
|22.||Variation On The Word Sleep||1/13/2003|
|23.||This Is A Photograph Of Me||1/3/2003|
|27.||Helen Of Troy Does Countertop Dancing||1/20/2003|
|28.||You Fit Into Me||1/3/2003|
|30.||A Sad Child||1/3/2003|
Comments about Margaret Atwood
A Sad Child
You're sad because you're sad.
It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.
Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessings. Better than that,
buy a hat. Buy a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream ...
What should we have taken
with us? We never could decide
on that; or what to wear,
or at what time of
year we should make the journey
So here we are in thin
raincoats and rubber boots