Quote

The ground has on its clothes. The trees poke out of sheets and each branch wears the sock of God.

Anne Sexton

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Anne Sexton
Age: 45 †
Born: 1928
Born: November 9
Died: 1974
Died: October 4
Poet
Writer
Newton
Massachusetts
Anne Gray Harvey
Clothes
Wears
Tree
Branch
Sheets
Branches
Trees
Snow
Winter
Poke
Ground
Sock

More quotes by Anne Sexton

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women are born twice.
Anne Sexton
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Poetry is my life, my postmark, my hands, my kitchen, my face.
Anne Sexton
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The fish are naked. The fish are always awake. They are the color of old spoons and caramels.
Anne Sexton
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It would be pleasant to be drunk.
Anne Sexton
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Emerald as heavy as a golf course, ruby as dark as an afterbirth, diamond as white as sun on the sea.
Anne Sexton
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I burn the way money burns.
Anne Sexton
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I tell it stories now and then and feed it images like honey. I will not speculate today with poems that think they're money.
Anne Sexton
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I am not at home in myself. I am my own stranger.
Anne Sexton
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the marriage twists, holds firm, a sailor's knot.
Anne Sexton
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stop the darkness and its amputations and find the real McCoy in the private holiness of my hands.
Anne Sexton
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Images are the heart of poetry ... You're not a poet without imagery.
Anne Sexton
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I put the gold star up in the front window beside the flag. Alterations is what I know and what I did: hems, gussets and seams.
Anne Sexton
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Sometimes the soul takes pictures of things it has wished for, but never seen.
Anne Sexton
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Some women marry houses. It's another kind of skin it has a heart, a mouth, a liver and bowel movements.
Anne Sexton
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I suffer for birds and fireflies but not frogs, she said, and threw him across the room. Kaboom! Like a genie out of a samovar, a handsome prince arose in the corner of the bedroom.
Anne Sexton
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Poets are sitting in my kitchen. Why do these poets lie? Why do children get children and Did you hear what it said?
Anne Sexton
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Once I was beautiful. Now I am myself, Counting this row and that row of moccasins Waiting on the silent shelf.
Anne Sexton
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All the oxygen of the world was in them. All the feet of the babies of the world were in them. All the crotches of the angels of the world were in them. All the morning kisses of Philadelphia were in them.
Anne Sexton
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Poor thing. To die and never see Brooklyn.
Anne Sexton
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Poems aren't postcards to send home.
Anne Sexton