Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
Carol Ann Duffy
This poem can be read biographically as a catharsis for Duffy
So while it conforms to the personal nature of the final poems in the collection, this poem is also a hybrid because it can be related to the earlier ‘dead’ and ‘mistreated’ characters in the collection (AO2: structure).
But what if, in the clammy soil, her limbs
grew warmer, shifted, stirred, kicked off
the covering of earth, the drowsing corms,
the sly worms, what if her arms reached out
to grab the stone, the grooves of her dates
under her thumb, and pulled her up? I wish.
Her bare feet walk along the gravel path
between the graves, her shroud like washing
blown onto the grass, the petals of her wreath
kissed for a bride. Nobody died. Nobody
wept. Nobody slept who couldn't be woken
by the light. If I can only push open this heavy door
she'll be standing there in the sun, dirty, tired,
wondering why do I shout, why do I run.
Wish was written by Carol Ann Duffy.