Back to the glass in terror we came,And stared at the writing round the frame.We could not understand one word:And suddenly we thought we heardThe hissing of the snakes again:How could we front them all alone?O, madly we clutched at the mirrored stoneAnd wished we were back on the flowery plain:And swifter than thought and swift as fearThe whole world flashed, and behold we were there.
A brackish reach of shoal off Madaket--The sea was still breaking violently and nightHad steamed into our North Atlantic Fleet,When the drowned sailor clutched the drag-net. LightFlashed from his matted head and marble feet,He grappled at the netWith the coiled, hurdling muscles of his thighs:The corpse was bloodless, a botch of reds and whites,Its open, staring eyesWere lustreless dead-lightsOr cabin-windows on a stranded hulkHeavy with sand.robert lowell
The true harvest of my daily life is somewhat as intangible and indescribable as the tints of morning or evening. It is a little star-dust caught, a segment of the rainbow which I have clutched.
You clutched my personal hair and ripped it out by the roots.bill allred