November Jailbreak
I stopped this morning to admire
A row of icicles in sun
And watched prismatic colors run
About them like a restless fire,
Where bars of silver, cold and bright,
Had caged a leaping flame of light.
But by this noon the spell was gone.
Only the gutter’s iron lip
And water’s rusty, measured drip
Gossiped of that imprisoned dawn
And hinted that tonight would make
Another jail for day to break.
The Saturday Evening Post, November 20, 1954
Read More:
Fiction & Poetry
The Little Miller Attack
Living in a small town, you can never really escape your past—a gripping new story from an emerging literary voice.
Death and Ms. FitzSimons
When a man with terminal cancer goes off into the snowy woods to meet death, he finds more than he bargained for.
Miss Temptation
A soldier just back from Korea disrupts a small town's daily ritual—and makes a pretty girl cry—in Kurt Vonnegut's well-loved short story.
Treasures of the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library
Examine some of Kurt Vonnegut's personal artifacts that are on display at the Kurt Vonnegut Memorial Library in downtown Indianapolis.
The No-Talent Kid
Nothing could shake Walter's determination to get into the marching band. So how could his conductor tell him how misplaced his ambition was?
^ ADVERTISEMENT ^
One Comment ( Post a Comment )
I’m always amazed at the way writers and poets see everyday objects but more amazed by how they describe them in words in such a beautiful way that lets us see them that way too.