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Anne Sexton - Her Kind

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

I have found the warm caves in the woods,
filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves,
closets, silks, innumerable goods;
fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves:
whining, rearranging the disaligned.
A woman like that is misunderstood.
I have been her kind.

I have ridden in your cart, driver,
waved my nude arms at villages going by,
learning the last bright routes, survivor
where your flames still bite my thigh
and my ribs crack where your wheels wind.
A woman like that is not ashamed to die.
I have been her kind.

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Added: Feb 6 2004 | Viewed: 2000 times | Comments and analysis of Her Kind by Anne Sexton Comments (13)

Her Kind - Comments and Information

Poet: Anne Sexton
Poem: Her Kind
Poem of the Day: Sep 20 2000

Comment 13 of 13, added on January 31st, 2017 at 9:50 PM.
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Comment 12 of 13, added on January 1st, 2016 at 2:21 PM.
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nAQWfKpLyiX from United Kingdom
Comment 11 of 13, added on December 31st, 2015 at 11:25 PM.
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MRUAudeeFq from United Kingdom

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