Margaret Atwood

(18 November 1939 / Ottawa, Ontario)

The Shadow Voice - Poem by Margaret Atwood

My shadow said to me:
what is the matter


Isn't the moon warm
enough for you
why do you need
the blanket of another body


Whose kiss is moss


Around the picnic tables
The bright pink hands held sandwiches
crumbled by distance. Flies crawl
over the sweet instant


You know what is in these blankets


The trees outside are bending with
children shooting guns. Leave
them alone. They are playing
games of their own.


I give water, I give clean crusts


Aren't there enough words
flowing in your veins
to keep you going.


Comments about The Shadow Voice by Margaret Atwood

  • (5/18/2007 12:08:00 PM)


    Such loverly imagery (Report) Reply

    5 person liked.
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Read poems about / on: pink, kiss, children, moon, water, alone, tree, child



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 2, 2004



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