I woke up with a spot of blood
over my eye. A scratch
halfway across my forehead.
But I’m sleeping alone these days.
Why on earth would a man raise his hand
against himself, even in sleep?
It’s this and similar questions
I’m trying to answer this morning.
As I study my face in the window.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Raymond Carver's poem The Scratch

1 Comment

  1. Zack Gillett says:

    this happens to me often there is nothing to worry about

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