After I had cut off my hands
and grown new ones
something my former hands had longed for
came and asked to be rocked.
After my plucked out eyes
had withered, and new ones grown
something my former eyes had wept for
came asking to be pitied.
| Best Poems | Short Poems
Email Poem |
More Poems by Denise Levertov
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Intrusion
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Intrusion here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.