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Sharon Olds - The Unborn

Sometimes I can almost see, around our heads,
Like gnats around a streetlight in summer,
The children we could have,
The glimmer of them.

Sometimes I feel them waiting, dozing 
In some antechamber - servants, half-
Listening for the bell. 

Sometimes I see them lying like love letters
In the Dead Letter Office

And sometimes, like tonight, by some black
Second sight I can feel just one of them
Standing on the edge of a cliff by the sea 
In the dark, stretching its arms out 
Desperately to me.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 5353 times | Comments and analysis of The Unborn by Sharon Olds Comments (446)

The Unborn - Comments and Information

Poet: Sharon Olds
Poem: The Unborn

Comment 446 of 446, added on December 21st, 2014 at 10:09 AM.
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Comment 445 of 446, added on December 21st, 2014 at 9:01 AM.
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Comment 444 of 446, added on October 21st, 2014 at 5:33 AM.
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a5R1Ln Thanks - Enjoyed this post, can you make it so I get an alert email every time you write a new article?

mattew crorkz from Yugoslavia

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