Had to post a picture of Matt in his new glasses. He was not very keen on getting them, but is so excited now by what he can actually see. I am sure he thought it was normal for things to be blurry.
I am struggling through this poetry. The title of the textbook says it all, "SEVEN CENTURIES of Poetry in English".
Does anyone know what this poem is about??
The Sea Anemones Gwen Harwood
Grey mountains, sea and sky. Even the misty
sea wind is grey. I walk on lichened rock
in a kind of late assessment, call it peace.
Then the anemones, scarlet, gouts of blood.
There is a word I need, and earth was speaking.
I cannot hear. These seaflowers are too bright.
Kneeling on rock, I touch them through cold water.
My fingers meet some hungering gentleness.
A newborn child's lips moved so at my breast.
I woke, once, with my palm across your mouth.
The word is: ever. Why add salt to salt?
Blood drop by drop among the rocks they shine.
Anemos, wind. The spirit, where it will.
Not flowers, no, animals that must eat or die.