In the pull of the wind I stand, lonely,
On the deck of a ship, rising, falling,
Wild night around me, wild water under me,
Whipped by the storm, screaming and calling.
Earth is hostile and the sea hostile,
Why do I look for a place to rest?
I must fight always and die fighting
With fear an unhealing wound in my breast.
by SARA TEASDALE (1884-1933)
Public Domain Poetry
unbolt me 
It’s really beautiful. What about this poem spoke to you, in particular?
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I think it’s the simple storytelling language of it that pulls me in. I feel like I’m really there. 😮
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This reminds me of a poetry reading I took part in years ago. There was an old cemetery in town and we held a poetry marathon on the anniversary of the birth of Walt Whitman. It was a great event.
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Oh wow! Just reading that sends shivers of delight up my spine. I would very much have liked to have attended such a magical event!
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It was. I’ve never again experienced such a gatering but perhaps, it is time… I’m sure there are places of significance where you are that could prove an excellent venue? Then you could blog about the event?
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Not a bad idea, Léa! 😉
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Now that would be a post worth reblogging… 🙂
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I like! A bit..Emily Dickinson ish, no?
💜
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I think you could say that. Yes! 🙂
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