
DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT ~BY DYLAN THOMAS
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day
My shadows you grew in your backyard, clandestine photosynthesis with your darkness. I nourished them with tears, unsalted over time. The sun came up, I reached deep down, my roots calling out to me. Uprooting them was painful but I heard your darkness scream through my veins. Tearing away from your weeds, I stretched out…
There once was a little girl so innocent and free-
One morning she work up
That had all been taken
The growing idleness of summer grass
With its frail kites of furious butterflies
Once upon a time, son,
they used to laugh with their hearts
and laugh with their eyes:
There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
Your warm embrace
Like a cloak of freedom
Laid the sun in my arms