Hi,
I'm suprised no one has mentioned Sylvia Plath, whatever you think of her poetry in general, she certainly came up with humdinger endings....
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises towards her like a terrible fish.
Tonight, like a shawl, the mild light enfolds her,
The shadows stoop over like guests at a christening.
The narcissi look up like children, quickly and whitely.
Talking of the end - what about sonnets? My favourite couplet is from Shakespeare's xii -
Or if they sing, tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the Winter's near.
What about your own writing - we must have some Spherean killer closes.
cheers
Alan
|