Barbed Wire by Eithne Wilkins

The silence, with its ragged edge of lost communication,
silence at the latter end,
is now a spiked north wind.

Last words
toss about me in the streets, waste paper
or a cigarette butt in some gutter stream
that overflows
from crumpled darkness.
“Look, I am plunged in the midst of them, a dagger
in their midst.”

and over the edge
the nightmares peer, with their tall stories
and the day’s unheard-of cry.

From: http://neglectedbooks.com/?p=4453

Date: 1940

By: Eithne Wilkins (?-?)

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2 Comments to “Barbed Wire by Eithne Wilkins”

  1. Translator of Musil’s A Man Without Qualities. And not forgetting her own Rose-Garden Game, a history of the rosary.

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