Poems Rethabile Likes

The Fury of Sunsets by Anne Sexton | Poems Rethabile Likes The Fury of Sunsets by Anne Sexton Something cold is in the air, an aura of ice and phlegm. All day I’ve built a lifetime and now the sun sinks to undo it. The horizon bleeds and sucks its thumb. The little red thumb goes out of sight. And I wonder about this lifetime with myself, this dream I’m living. I could eat the sky like an apple but I’d rather ask the first star: why am I here? why do I live in this house? who’s responsible? eh? ...

Blood Feud by Elinor Wylie | Poems Rethabile Likes Blood Feud by Elinor Wylie Once, when my husband was a child, there came To his father's table, one who called him kin, In sunbleached corduroys paler than his skin. His look was grave and kind; he bore the name Of the dead singer of Senlac, and his smile. Shyly and courteously he smiled and spoke; "I've been in the laurel since the winter broke; Four months, I reckon; yes, sir, quite a while." He'd killed a score of foemen in the past, In some blood feud, a dark and monstrous thing; To him it seemed his duty. At the last His enemies found him...