|
|
|
Donald Hall
(1928 - / Connecticut / United States)
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
Click the
title of the poem you'd like read.
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
 |
"In football they measure forty-yard sprints. Nobody runs forty yards in basketball. Maybe you run the ninety-four feet of the court; then you stop, not on a dime, but on Miss Liberty's torch. In football you run over somebody's face." |
|
Donald Hall (b. 1928), U.S. poet, essayist. "Basketball: The Purest Sport of Bodies," Fathers Playing Catch with Sons: Essays on Sport, North Point Press (1985).
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Sweet death, small son, our instrument
Of immortality,
Your cries and hungers document
Our bodily decay." |
|
Donald Hall (b. 1928), U.S. poet. My Son, My Executioner (l. 5-8). . .
Contemporary American Poetry. A. Poulin, Jr., ed. (4th ed., 1985) Houghton Mifflin Company.
|
|
Read more quotations >>
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
| |
|
People who read
Donald Hall
|
 |
|
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
|
