Home Burial Analysis

He saw her from the bottom of the stairs

Before she saw him. She was starting down,

Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.

She took a doubtful step and then undid it

To raise herself and look again. He spoke

Advancing toward her: "What is it you see

From up there always? -- for I want to know."

She turned and sank upon her skirts at that,

And her face changed from terrified to dull.

He said to gain time: "What is it you see?"

Mounting until she cowered under him.

"I will find out now -- you must tell me, dear."

She, in her place, refused him any help,

With the least stiffening of her neck and silence.

She let him look, sure that he wouldn't see,

Blind creature; and a while he didn't see.

But at last he murmured, "Oh" and again, "Oh.""What is it -- what?" she said."Just that I see.""You don't," she challenged. "Tell me what it is.""The wonder is I didn't see at once.

I never noticed it from here before.

I must be wonted to it -- that's the reason.

The little graveyard where my people are!

So small the window frames the whole of it.

Not so much larger than a bedroom, is it?

There are three stones of slate and one of marble,

Broad-shouldered little slabs there in the sunlight

On the sidehill. We haven't to mind

.: :.

This is some bull[censored] that i came here to get someone elses opinion of this poem for my test tomorrow and you slap dick deep thinkers out there don't even care enough about this poem to post your opinion of it. Isn't that supposed to be what you bloggers do.

| Posted on 2007-02-07 | by a guest