Fletcher McGee She took my strengths by minutes, she took my life by hours, She drained me like a fevered moon that saps the spinning world. The days went by like shadows, the minutes wheeled like stars. She took the pity from my heart, and made it into smiles. She was a hunk of sculptor's clay, my secret thoughts were fingers; They flew behind her pensive brow and lined it deep with pain. They set the lips, and sagged the cheeks, And dropped the eyes with sorrow. My soul had entered in the clay, fighting like seven devils. It was not mine, it was not hers: She held it, but it's struggles Modeled a face she hated And a face I feared to see. I beat the windows, shook the bolts. I hid me in a corner--- And then she died and haunted me, and hunted me for life.------Edgar Lee Masters(Spoon River Anthology) |
| Specific poems: |
| From dusk to dawn, from town to town, Without a single clue I seek the tender, slender foot to fit this crystal shoe. From dusk till dawn I try it on Each damsel that I meet And I still love her so, but oh, I've started hating feet. ----From "A rhyme is a crime", by Shel Silverstein. Author of "Where the sidewalk ends" and "a light in the attic". |