A silken thread pulled taut and tied, Then drawn across a jagged glass, A thousand times intensified; This permeates the thoughts that pass And flit throughout my febrile brain, While tossing restlessly with pain. Then thread through glass must now have ground, For failing that, I needs must scream, A tolling silence crashes 'round, Through which one hears, as in a dream, Each tiny pin-prick spot of sound But amplified, yet spaced apart: -- Footsteps, a voice, a door -- my beating heart . . . | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET TO A CLAM by JOHN GODFREY SAXE I SHALL LIVE TO BE OLD by SARA TEASDALE A TRINITY OF MOTHERHOOD by FRED CLARE BALDWIN ON THE DEATH OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE BALLAD OF BAZILE BORGNE: L'ENVOI by IDA COLE BARTLATT |