At Woodlawn I Heard the dead cry: I was lulled by the slamming of iron, A slow drip over stones, Toads brooding wells. - Theodore Roethke

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At Woodlawn I Heard the dead cry: I was lulled by the slamming of iron, A slow drip over stones, Toads brooding wells.

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About Theodore Roethke

Theodore Huebner Roethke (IPA: ['ɹ ɛ t.ki]; RET-key) (25 May 1908 – 1 August 1963) was an American poet who published several volumes of poetry characterized by their rhythm and natural imagery. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1954 for his book, The Waking.

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In a dark time, the eye begins to see / I meet my shadow in the deepening shade...Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire.
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What's madness but nobility of soul
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire! I know the purity of pure despair, my shadow pinned against a sweating wall, that place among the rocks — is it a cave, or winding path? The edge is what I have.
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