Late, but still Monday

Louise-Gluck-credit-c-Katherine-Wolkoff-300x225Louise Glück is a poet whose works seems to evolve with each new book. This poem is one of my favorites:

Cottonmouth Country

Fish bones walked the waves off Hatteras.
And there were other signs
That Death wooed us, by water, wooed us
By land: among the pines
An uncurled cottonmouth that rolled on moss
Reared in the polluted air.
Birth, not death, is the hard loss.
I know. I also left a skin there.

Louise Glück

 

Louis Gluck

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *