Louise Gluck

(22 April 1943 / New York / United States)

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.

Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Form:


Do you like this poem?
2 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read poems about / on: tree, moon, sleep, rose

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (All Hallows by Louise Gluck )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Trending Poets

Trending Poems

  1. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  2. A Homage To The Freedom Fighters Of India, Raja Basu
  3. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  4. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  5. A Red, Red Rose, Robert Burns
  6. Daffodils, William Wordsworth
  7. O Captain! My Captain!, Walt Whitman
  8. If, Rudyard Kipling
  9. Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
  10. To A Mouse, Robert Burns

Poem of the Day

poet Geoffrey Chaucer

Adam Scrivener, if ever it thee befall
Boece or Troilus for to write anew,
Under thy long locks thou may'st have the scall
But after my making thou write more true!
...... Read complete »

 

Modern Poem

poet Jean Toomer

 
[Hata Bildir]