Louise Gluck

(22 April 1943 / New York / United States)

April - Poem by Louise Gluck

No one's despair is like my despair--

You have no place in this garden
thinking such things, producing
the tiresome outward signs; the man
pointedly weeding an entire forest,
the woman limping, refusing to change clothes
or wash her hair.

Do you suppose I care
if you speak to one another?
But I mean you to know
I expected better of two creatures
who were given minds: if not
that you would actually care for each other
at least that you would understand
grief is distributed
between you, among all your kind, for me
to know you, as deep blue
marks the wild scilla, white
the wood violet.


Comments about April by Louise Gluck

  • Rookie - 45 Points Colleen Courtney (5/14/2014 8:59:00 PM)

    An interesting piece. Enjoyed the read. (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 7 Points Sylva Portoian (12/30/2011 9:07:00 AM)

    Why you should write about Ararat
    If you don't Have Armenian Blood...
    Why you ignore your origin and hide
    Tell the truth and never hide
    That you have Armenian blood...? (Report) Reply

Read all 2 comments »



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Read poems about / on: despair, grief, change, woman, hair, april, women



Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004



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