Poem by Amy Lowell

Miscast II

My heart is like a cleft pomegranate
Bleeding crimson seeds
And dripping them on the ground.
My heart gapes because it is ripe and over-full,
And its seeds are bursting from it.
But how is this other than a torment to me!
I, who am shut up, with broken crockery,
In a dark closet!

1. Reaping
2. Frankincense and Myrrh
3. Teatro Bambino. Dublin, N. H.
4. Red Slippers
5. On Carpaccio’s Picture: The Dream of St. Ursula

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