2 min read
Слушать

Women

Women have no wilderness in them,

They are provident instead,

Content in the tight hot cell of their

To eat dusty bread.

They do not see cattle cropping red winter grass,

They do not

Snow water going down under

Shallow and clear.

They wait, when they should turn to journeys,

They stiffen, when they should bend.

They use against themselves that

To which no man is friend.

They cannot think of so many crops to a

Or of clean wood cleft by an axe.

Their love is an eager

Too tense, or too lax.

They hear in every whisper that speaks to themA shout and a cry.

As like as not, when they take life over their

They should let it go by.

0
0
77
Give Award

Louise Bogan

Louise Bogan (August 11, 1897 – February 4, 1970) was an American poet. She was appointed the fourth Poet Laureate to the Library of Congress in…

Other author posts

Comments
You need to be signed in to write comments

Reading today

Телефонная будка
Любовь как сон
Ryfma
Ryfma is a social app for writers and readers. Publish books, stories, fanfics, poems and get paid for your work. The friendly and free way for fans to support your work for the price of a coffee
© 2024 Ryfma. All rights reserved 12+