Theodore Roethke

Cuttings – Theodore Roethke

Cuttings – Theodore Roethke

This urge, wrestle, resurrection of dry sticks, Cut stems struggling to put down feet, What saint strained so much, Rose on such lopped limbs to a new life? I can hear, underground, that sucking and sobbing, In my veins, in my bones I feel it — The small waters seeping upward, The tight grains... »