Poetry Wednesday

AdcockAlright, I know it’s supposed to be Poetry Monday, but I was busy babysitting.

Here is a poem by Fleur Adcock:

Things

There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public.
There are worse things than these miniature betrayals,
committed or endured or suspected; there are worse things
than not being able to sleep for thinking about them.
It is 5 a.m. All the worse things come stalking in
and stand icily about the bed looking worse and worse
and worse.

4 thoughts on “Poetry Wednesday

  1. Yes, body left. The work the work behind.
    He was 51.
    My mom was 50.
    so long ago she was here and 50.
    love sex and death. The works.

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