The Shampoo
Elizabeth Bishop
The still explosions on the rocks, the lichens, grow by spreading, gray, concentric shocks. They have arranged to meet the rings around the moon, although within our memories they have not changed. And since the heavens will attend as long on us, you've been, dear friend, precipitate and pragmatical; and look what happens. For Time is nothing if not amenable. The shooting stars in your black hair in bright formation are flocking where, so straight, so soon? --Come, let me wash it in this big tin basin, battered and shiny like the moon.
Next 10 Poems
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Unbeliever
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Weed
- Elizabeth Bishop : To Be Written On The Mirror In Whitewash
- Elizabeth Bishop : Trouve
- Elizabeth Bishop : View Of The Capitol From The Library Of Congress
- Elizabeth Bishop : Visits To St. Elizabeths
- Elizabeth Bishop : While Someone Telephones
- William Blake : A Cradle Song
- William Blake : A Divine Image
- William Blake : A Dream
Previous 10 Poems
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Moose
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Monument
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Map
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Man-moth
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Imaginary Iceberg
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Fish
- Elizabeth Bishop : The End Of March
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Colder The Air
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Burglar Of Babylon
- Elizabeth Bishop : The Bight