28.4.08

Poem Of The Day: "White Apples," by Donald Hall

when my father had been dead a week
I woke
with his voice in my ear
I sat up in bed
and held my breath
and stared at the pale closed door

white apples and the taste of stone

if he called again
I would put on my coat and galoshes

1 comment:

  1. Sorry for the lack of poetry posts. I've been sick and then went out of town. I'm going to make up for the lost posts in the next few days.

    ReplyDelete