All Hallows
Even now this landscape is assembling. The hills darken. The oxen Sleep in their blue yoke, The fields having been Picked clean, the sheaves Bound evenly and piled at the roadside Among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises: This is the barrenness Of harvest or pestilence And the wife leaning out the window With her hand extended, as in payment, And the seeds Distinct, gold, calling Come here Come here, little one And the soul creeps out of the tree. Louise Gluck http://poemhunter.com/poem/all-hallows/ |
Confession
To say I'm without fear-- It wouldn't be true. I'm afraid of sickness, humiliation. Like anyone, I have my dreams. But I've learned to hide them, To protect myself From fulfillment: all happiness Attracts the Fates' anger. They are sisters, savages-- In the end they have No emotion but envy. Louise Gluck http://poemhunter.com/poem/confession-2/ |
Horse
What does the horse give you That I cannot give you? I watch you when you are alone, When you ride into the field behind the dairy, Your hands buried in the mare's Dark mane. Then I know what lies behind your silence: Scorn, hatred of me, of marriage. Still, You want me to touch you; you cry out As brides cry, but when I look at you I see There are no children in your body. Then what is there? Nothing, I think. Only haste To die before I die. In a dream, I watched you ride the horse Over the dry fields and then Dismount: you two walked together; In the dark, you had no shadows. But I felt them coming toward me Since at night they go anywhere, They are their own masters. Look at me. You think I don't understand? What is the animal If not passage out of this life? Louise Gluck http://poemhunter.com/poem/horse/ |