1 мин
Слушать(AI)The Thread
Something is very gently, invisibly, silently, pulling at me-a thread or net of threads finer than cobweb and as elastic.
I haven't tried the strength of it.
No barbed hook pierced and tore me.
Was it not long ago this thread began to draw me?
Or way back?
Was I born with its knot about my neck, a bridle?
Not fear but a stirring of wonder makes me catch my breath when I feel the tug of it when I thought it had loosened itself and gone.
Denise Levertov
Priscilla Denise Levertov (24 October 1923 – 20 December 1997) was an American poet. She was a recipient of the Lannan Literary Award for Poetry
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Другие работы автора
The Breathing
An absolutepatience Trees standup to their knees infog The fogslowly flowsuphill Whitecobwebs, the grass leaning where deer have looked for apples
Living
The fire in leaf and grassso green it seemseach summer the last summer The wind blowing, the leavesshivering in the sun,each day the last day A red salamanderso cold and soeasy to catch, dreamilymoves his delicate feetand long tail ...
The Well
At sixteen I believed the moonlight could change me if it would I moved my headon the pillow, even moved my bedas the moon slowlycrossed the open lattice I wanted beauty, a dangerousgleam of steel, my body thinner,my pale face paler<br /...
From The Roof
This wild night, gathering the washing as if it were flowers animal vines twisting over the line and slapping my face lightly, soundless merriment in the gesticulations of shirtsleeves, I recall out of my joy a night of miserywalking in the d...