Galway Kinnell Poems
|1.||After Making Love We Hear Footsteps||1/13/2003|
|2.||Another Night In Ruins||4/3/2012|
|8.||Flower Herding On Mount Monadnock||4/3/2012|
|9.||How Could You Not||1/13/2003|
|11.||Little Sleep's-Head Sprouting Hair In The Moonlight||1/13/2003|
|14.||Poem Of Night||1/13/2003|
|16.||St. Francis And The Sow||1/13/2003|
|17.||Telephoning In Mexican Sunlight||1/13/2003|
|20.||The Correspondence School Instructor Says Goodbye To His Poetry Students||11/27/2014|
|21.||The Man Splitting Wood In The Daybreak||4/3/2012|
|23.||The Still Time||2/19/2015|
|24.||The Stone Table||10/13/2015|
|26.||Vapor Train Reflected In The Frog Pond||1/20/2003|
Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become lovely again.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again,
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness...
Poem Of Night
I move my hand over
slopes, falls, lumps of sight,
Lashes barely able to be touched,
Lips that give way so easily
it's a shock to feel underneath them
The bones smile.