Sharon Olds

(November 19, 1942 / San Francisco)

Sharon Olds Poems

1. 1954 1/13/2003
2. A Week Later 1/13/2003
3. Crab 1/13/2003
4. Her First Week 11/28/2014
5. I Could Not Tell 11/19/2011
6. I Go Back To May 1937 11/19/2011
7. Japanese-American Farmhouse, California, 1942 1/20/2003
8. May 1968 1/20/2003
9. My Son The Man 1/7/2015
10. One Year 1/13/2003
11. Primitive 1/13/2003
12. Sex Without Love -new- 6/24/2016
13. Still Life In Landscape 11/19/2011
14. Take The I Out 1/20/2003
15. The Borders 1/13/2003
16. The Clasp 1/13/2003
17. The Daughter Goes To Camp 1/13/2003
18. The Death of Marilyn Monroe 6/12/2015
19. The End 1/13/2003
20. The Ferryer 1/20/2003
21. The Flurry 5/27/2015
22. The Knowing 4/3/2015
23. The Month of June: 13 1/2 9/15/2015
24. The Mortal One 1/13/2003
25. The Pact 11/19/2011
26. The Sash 1/13/2003
27. The Space Heater 1/13/2003
28. The Unborn 1/13/2003
29. The Victims 1/7/2004
30. The Wedding Vow 10/13/2015
31. Topography 11/19/2011
32. Toth Farry 9/15/2015
33. True Love 1/5/2016
34. Unspeakable 5/27/2015
35. Voices 11/19/2011
Best Poem of Sharon Olds

The Unborn

Sometimes I can almost see, around our heads,
Like gnats around a streetlight in summer,
The children we could have,
The glimmer of them.

Sometimes I feel them waiting, dozing
In some antechamber - servants, half-
Listening for the bell.

Sometimes I see them lying like love letters
In the Dead Letter Office

And sometimes, like tonight, by some black
Second sight I can feel just one of them
Standing on the edge of a cliff by the sea
In the dark, stretching its arms out
Desperately to me.

Read the full of The Unborn

One Year

When I got to his marker, I sat on it,
like sitting on the edge of someone's bed
and I rubbed the smooth, speckled granite.
I took some tears from my jaw and neck
and started to wash a corner of his stone.
Then a black and amber ant
ran out onto the granite, and off it,
and another ant hauled a dead
ant onto the stone, leaving it, and not coming back.

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