Louise Bogan Poems
|2.||To Be Sung On The Water||10/24/2013|
|3.||Statue And Birds||4/15/2010|
|5.||Words For Departure||1/13/2003|
|7.||Chanson Un Peu Naïve||1/13/2003|
|8.||Solitary Observation Brought Back From A Sojourn In Hell||1/3/2003|
|13.||The Frightened Man||1/13/2003|
|14.||Epitaph For A Romantic Woman||1/3/2003|
|18.||Men Loved Wholly Beyond Wisdom||1/3/2003|
|21.||Tears In Sleep||1/3/2003|
|23.||Last Hill In A Vista||1/3/2003|
|24.||To A Dead Lover||4/15/2010|
|25.||The Crossed Apple||1/3/2003|
|27.||Song For The Last Act||1/13/2003|
O God, in the dream the terrible horse began
To paw at the air, and make for me with his blows,
Fear kept for thirty-five years poured through his mane,
And retribution equally old, or nearly, breathed through his nose.
Coward complete, I lay and wept on the ground
When some strong creature appeared, and leapt for the rein.
Another woman, as I lay half in a swound
Leapt in the air, and clutched at the leather and chain.
Give him, she said, something of yours as a charm.
Throw him, she said, some poor thing you alone claim.
No, no, I cried, he hates me; ...
The Crossed Apple
I’ve come to give you fruit from out my orchard,
Of wide report.
I have trees there that bear me many apples.
Of every sort:
Clear, streaked; red and russet; green and golden;
Sour and sweet.
This apple’s from a tree yet unbeholden,
Where two kinds meet, -