It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
(read full poem on right)
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
(read full poem on right)
I've been on a poetry spree lately. Anything with words really. Any chapters assigned for English was shredded in 20 sparse minutes of study hall. I borrowed books in bulk, 5 at a time, forcing myself into a set rhythm until weeks had passed and I had finally finished them all.
Time is a translucent screen that separates my life into pieces. But words, the words of Auden and Frost, Plath and Sebold, flow through to me always. Though times I have felt like an animal caged in a unoxygenated crack, words have reached me where time could not and have healed.
Words have been my nourishment and without them I think I would perish.
I am looking for something new to read. Any suggestions?
(Ironically, this is coming from someone who can't even check anything out because of a huge library fee.)
EDIT: I read The Bell Jar for the first time two weeks ago and it was remarkable. I love Plath.