And this is the way they ring
the bells in Bedlam
and this is the bell-lady
who comes each Tuesday morning
to give us a music lesson
and because the attendants make you go
and because we mind by instinct,
like bees caught in the wrong hive,
we are the circle of crazy ladies
who sit in the lounge of the mental house
and smile at the smiling woman
who passes us each a bell,
who points at my hand
that holds my bell, E flat,
and this is the gray dress next to me
who grumbles as if it were special
to be old, to be old,
and this is the small hunched squirrel girl
on the other side of me
who picks at the hairs over her lip,
who picks at the hairs over her lip all day,
and this is how the bells really sound,
as untroubled and clean
as a workable kitchen,
and this is always my bell responding
to my hand that responds to the lady
who points at me, E flat;
and although we are not better for it,
they tell you to go. And you do.
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poem for aging
From guest Meg (contact)
Mary, As I read your account of Alma's fall, this poem came to mind. I read it in John Brand's class as an undergrad. Since then, it's resonance has become deeper and richer for me, bringing to mind the heart and presence of an aging parent. -
She got me all interested at the beginning about the music lessons. Then it turned out to be just bells?
Did Sexton write prose at all? She is a wonderful poet, but with her gift for observation, she could have been a novelist. The descriptions of the other patients were excellent.
MOD MESSAGE
Yes. She published in many formats. This site has some good biographical and bibliographical pages.
http://www.uta.edu/english/tim/poetry/as/sexton.html
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- Ringing the Bells by Anne Sexton, with 2 responses
