INTERLUDE
by: Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)
 MID this
hot green glowing gloom
- A word falls with a raindrop's boom...
-
- Like baskets of ripe fruit in air
- The bird-songs seem, suspended where
-
- Those goldfinches--the ripe warm lights
- Peck slyly at them--take quick flights.
-
- My feet are feathered like a bird
- Among the shadows scarcely heard;
-
- I bring you branches green with dew
- And fruits that you may crown anew
Your whirring waspish-gilded hair
Amid this cornucopia--
Until your warm lips bear the stains
And bird-blood leap within your veins.
|
"Interlude" is reprinted
from Modern British Poetry. Ed. Louis Untermeyer. New
York: Harcourt, Brace & Howe, 1920. |
MORE
POEMS BY EDITH SITWELL |
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