Denise Levertov Poems

Bricks of the wall,
so much older than the house -
taken I think from a farm pulled down
when the street was built -
...

An old man whose black face
shines golden-brown as wet pebbles
under the streetlamp, is walking two mongrel dogs of dis-
proportionate size, in the rain,
...

Rose Red's hair is brown as fur
and shines in firelight as she prepares
supper of honey and apples, curds and whey,
for the bear, and leaves it ready
...

The ache of marriage:

thigh and tongue, beloved,
are heavy with it,
...

Down through the tomb's inward arch
He has shouldered out into Limbo
to gather them, dazed, from dreamless slumber:
the merciful dead, the prophets,
...

There's in my mind a woman
of innocence, unadorned but

fair-featured and smelling of
...

iiGloria

Praise the wet snow
falling early.
...

A night that cuts between you and you
and you and you and you
and me : jostles us apart, a man elbowing
through a crowd.          We won't
...

"The World is not something to
look at, it is something to be in."
Mark Rudman
...