|Potted Flowers with Books IV|
No, I'm Not Afraid
No, I'm not afraid: after a year
Of breathing these prison nights
I will survive into the sadness
To name which is escape.
The cockerel will weep freedom for me
And here - knee-deep in mire -
My gardens shed their water
And the northern air blows in draughts.
And how am I to carry to an alien planet
What are almost tears, as though towards home...
It isn't true, I am afraid, my darling!
But make it look as though you haven't noticed.
(4th March 1954 - )