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7.7
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(11
votes)
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My father made the walls resound,
He wore his collar the wrong way round.
When I was five the black dreamscame;
Nothing after was quite the same.
When I woke they did not care;
Nobody, nobody was there.
In my childhood trees were green
And there was plenty to be seen.
When my silent terror cried,
Nobody, nobody replied.
I got up; the chilly sun
Saw me walk away alone.
My mother wore a yellow dress;
Gentle, gently, gentleness.
The dark was talking to the dead;
The lamp was dark beside my bed.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Come back early or never come.
Louis Macneice
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Read poems about / on: childhood, dark, father, green, mother, alone, sun, tree
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Comments about this poem (Autobiography
by
Louis Macneice
) |
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comments about this poem (Autobiography by
Louis Macneice
)
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Lauren Michaels
(9/10/2006 1:40:00 PM) |
GAH how irritating. Can't fully appreciate this poem AT ALL like that. Someone Fix it.
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Brid Mcginley
(1/24/2006 6:05:00 PM) |
This poem is incorrectly transcribed. It is a powerful, sad poem, but need to be read as written!
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Linda Preston
(3/25/2005 7:13:00 AM) |
shades of theodore roethke with this poetry. I love it. Very chilling.
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Louis Macneice
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