English poetry

Poems in English

The Fury Of God’s Goodbye

The Fury Of God’s Goodbye

One day He
Tipped His top hat
And walked
Out of the room,
Ending the argument.
He stomped off
Saying:
I don’t give guarantees.
I was left
Quite alone
Using up the darkness
I rolled up
My sweater,
Up in a ball,
And took it
To bed with me,
A kind of stand-in
For God,
That washerwoman
Who walks out
When you’re clean
But not ironed.
When I woke up
The sweater
Had turned to
Bricks of gold.
I’d won the world
But like a
Forsaken explorer,
I’d lost
My map.



Poem The Fury Of God’s Goodbye - Anne Sexton