Dawn Raid by Dylan Thomas

AMONG THOSE KILLED IN THE DAWN RAID WAS A

MAN AGED A HUNDRED

When the morning was waking over the war

He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,

The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,

He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone

And the funeral grains of the slaughtered floor.

Tell his street on its back he stopped a sun

And the craters of his eyes grew springshoots and fire

When all the keys shot from the locks, and rang.

Dig no more for the chains of his grey-haired heart.

The heavenly ambulance drawn by a wound

Assembling waits for the spade’s ring on the cage.

O keep his bones away from that common cart,

The morning is flying on the wings of his age

And a hundred storks perch on the sun’s right hand.

—Dylan Thomas

Read by Dylan Thomas

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Published in: on December 14, 2009 at 6:19 PM  Leave a Comment  

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