Home ⇒ 📌Anne Sexton ⇒ Young
Young
A thousand doors ago
When I was a lonely kid
In a big house with four
Garages and it was summer
As long as I could remember,
I lay on the lawn at night,
Clover wrinkling over me,
The wise stars bedding over me,
My mother’s window a funnel
Of yellow heat running out,
My father’s window, half shut,
An eye where sleepers pass,
And the boards of the house
Were smooth and white as wax
And probably a million leaves
Sailed on their strange stalks
As the crickets ticked together
And I, in my brand new body,
Which was not a woman’s yet,
Told the stars my questions
And thought God could really see
The heat and the painted light,
Elbows, knees, dreams, goodnight.
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