Pale gold of the walls, gold
of the centers of daisies, yellow roses
pressing from a clear bowl. All day
we lay on the bed, my hand
stroking the deep
gold of your thighs and your back.
We slept and woke
entering the golden room together,
lay down in it breathing
quickly, then
slowly again,
caressing and dozing, your hand sleepily
touching my hair now.
 
We made in those days
tiny identical rooms inside our bodies
which the men who uncover our graves
will find in a thousand years,
shining and whole.

  • 0
  • 2
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Chactas
2 months

Happiness might be a blue bird, but unvanquished love is golden ...beautiful poem.

Liked or faved by...

Robert L. Martin Chactas
Email

Other works by Donald Hall...

Some poets who follow Donald Hall...

Juan hernandez Carter Lee Hach Robert L. Martin Donald Grafwallner Liana Duffy Cordell Carrier