I hear a pounding on the wall
And pounding on the roof--
I see the grey and saundry-soot
Free falling from aloof.
What! Say you hear a single thing
Or nothing naught at all,
And live a little supple lives
Awhile the world falls;
And listen with your hand and ears
And sleeping with your eyes,
And twittle thumbs like little drums
Awhile the world dies.
Author notes
As I was sitting in my Major British Writers class, along the back wall, it sounded like something was being dropped on the roof and slammed against the walls. Whatever it was, it was so heavy it caused dust to fall from the ceiling. Oddly, I think I was the only one who noticed that the world was ending, because no one else even batted an eye.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A poet can write about anuthing; funny what it is that inspires us at times - dust falling from the ceiling is all it takes in this case. Easy to read and understand. Reminds me of Chicken Little and how he let everyone know the sky was falling...
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