A Woman Waking
She wakens early remembering
her father rising in the dark
lighting the stove with a match
scraped on the floor. Then measuring
water for coffee, and later the smell
coming through. She would hear
him drying spoons, dropping
them one by one in the drawer.
Then he was on the stairs
going for the milk. So soon
he would be at her door
to wake her gently, he thought,
with a hand at her nape, shaking
to and fro, smelling of gasoline
and whispering. Then he left.
Now she shakes her head, shakes
him away and will not rise.
There is fog at the window
and thickening the high branches
of the sycamores. She thinks
of her own kitchen, the dishwasher
yawning open, the dripping carton
left on the counter. Her boys
have gone off steaming like sheep.
Were they here last night?
Where do they live? she wonders,
with whom? Are they home?
In her yard the young plum tree,
barely taller than she, drops
its first yellow leaf. She listens
and hears nothing. If she rose
and walked barefoot on the wood floor
no one would come to lead her
back to bed or give her
a glass ofwater. If she
boiled an egg it would darken
before her eyes. The sky tires
and turns away without a word.
The pillow beside hers is cold,
the old odor of soap is there.
Her hands are cold. What time is it?
Philip Levine's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (A Woman Waking by Philip Levine )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
- Persona, Madrason writer
- Aquarel, Madrason writer
- OVER THE ROCK OF SUICIDE, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- I am black, hasmukh amathalal
- Omgekeerde muziek, Madrason writer
- A Kind of Villanelle, Joyce Sutphen
- Hit, it!, Edward Kofi Louis
- Minder bedrogen, Madrason writer
- Geweldsparabel, Madrason writer
- To Be Kind, Edward Kofi Louis