Sorry
R.S. Thomas
Dear parents, I forgive you my life, Begotten in a drab town, The intention was good; Passing the street now, I see still the remains of sunlight. It was not the bone buckled; You gave me enough food To renew myself. It was the mind's weight Kept me bent, as I grew tall. It was not your fault. What should have gone on, Arrow aimed from a tried bow At a tried target, has turned back, Wounding itself With questions you had not asked.
Next 10 Poems
- R.S. Thomas : The Dance
- R.S. Thomas : The Village
- R.S. Thomas : The Woman
- R.S. Thomas : Welsh Landscape
- Henry Vaughan : Christ's Nativity
- Henry Vaughan : Friends Departed
- Henry Vaughan : I Walk'd The Other Day
- Henry Vaughan : Peace
- Henry Vaughan : The Evening-watch: A Dialogue
- Henry Vaughan : The Morning-watch
