Anne Sexton

(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974 / Newton, Massachusetts)

Anne Sexton Poems

1. The Stand-Ins 3/29/2010
2. The House 3/29/2010
3. The Fury Of Overshoes 3/29/2010
4. Where I Live In This Honorable House Of The Laurel Tree 3/29/2010
5. Some Foreign Letters 3/29/2010
6. The Child Bearers 3/29/2010
7. The Errand 3/29/2010
8. The Fury Of Jewels And Coal 3/29/2010
9. The Road Back 3/29/2010
10. The Expatriates 3/29/2010
11. To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph 3/29/2010
12. The Bells 3/29/2010
13. Old Dwarf Heart 3/29/2010
14. Torn Down From Glory Daily 3/29/2010
15. The Balance Wheel 3/29/2010
16. The Break 3/29/2010
17. The Fury Of Cooks 3/29/2010
18. The Division Of Parts 3/29/2010
19. What's That 3/29/2010
20. Letter Written On A Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound 3/29/2010
21. The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts 3/29/2010
22. Old 3/29/2010
23. The Fury Of Sunrises 3/29/2010
24. The Fury Of Hating Eyes 3/29/2010
25. Said The Poet To The Analyst 3/29/2010
26. Hutch 3/29/2010
27. The Play 3/29/2010
28. The Gold Key 3/29/2010
29. Red Roses 3/29/2010
30. The Children 3/29/2010
31. The Evil Seekers 3/29/2010
32. For Johnny Pole On The Forgotten Beach 3/29/2010
33. The Legend Of The One-Eyed Man 3/29/2010
34. The Angel Food Dogs 3/29/2010
35. The Death Baby 3/29/2010
36. The Consecrating Mother 3/29/2010
37. Woman With Girdle 3/29/2010
38. Small Wire 3/29/2010
39. Funnel 3/29/2010
40. Portrait Of An Old Woman On The College Tavern Wall 3/29/2010
Best Poem of Anne Sexton

45 Mercy Street

In my dream,
drilling into the marrow
of my entire bone,
my real dream,
I'm walking up and down Beacon Hill
searching for a street sign -
namely MERCY STREET.
Not there.

I try the Back Bay.
Not there.
Not there.
And yet I know the number.
45 Mercy Street.
I know the stained-glass window
of the foyer,
the three flights of the house
with its parquet floors.
I know the furniture and
mother, grandmother, great-grandmother,
the servants.
I know the cupboard of Spode
the boat of ice, solid silver,
where the ...

Read the full of 45 Mercy Street

Her Kind

have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,

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