Donald Hall

(20 September 1928 - / Hamden / Connecticut)

Donald Hall Poems

1. The Seventh Inning 10/5/2015
2. Her Long Illness 4/24/2015
3. Closings 1/21/2015
4. Olives 11/29/2014
5. The Painted Bed 3/16/2012
6. Gold 3/16/2012
7. The Things 3/16/2012
8. Tubes 3/16/2012
9. Ox Cart Man 3/16/2012
10. Safe Sex 3/16/2012
11. The Alligator Bride 1/3/2003
12. Je Suis Une Table 1/3/2003
13. Wolf Knife 1/3/2003
14. Sudden Things 1/3/2003
15. The Man In The Dead Machine 1/3/2003
16. Mount Kearsarge Shines 1/3/2003
17. Christmas Party At The South Danbury Church 1/3/2003
18. White Apples 1/3/2003
19. Distressed Haiku 1/3/2003
20. Affirmation 1/3/2003
21. Name Of Horses 1/3/2003
22. An Old Life 1/3/2003

Comments about Donald Hall

  • Sunita (8/25/2018 1:20:00 PM)

    Very vivid n evocative are your poems

    1 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Ashley (7/1/2018 12:22:00 PM)

    Such evocative images - the colors and feelings of life. Love An Old Life.

    1 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • George T Enoch (4/11/2015 6:37:00 AM)

    I wish to no more about him

    5 person liked.
    8 person did not like.
  • Cornelius Siccama Cornelius Siccama (12/4/2012 5:22:00 AM)

    every time I reread the name of horses I have tears in my eye. Why? I guess it is about the most honest and upright way to convey the meaning of love

    15 person liked.
    19 person did not like.
  • Sheila Pallay (10/27/2009 8:34:00 AM)

    I have been collaborating with Donald Hall for the past few years...combining his words and my photographs. If you like his poetry you should visit my website: www.eaglepondgallery.com

    20 person liked.
    26 person did not like.
  • Lawrence Glendinning (9/14/2007 1:21:00 AM)

    I want to learn more about him

    11 person liked.
    36 person did not like.
Best Poem of Donald Hall

An Old Life

Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
mounded softness where
the Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
I broomed snow off the car
and drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart
before Amy opened
to yank my Globe out of the bundle.
Back, I set my cup of coffee
beside Jane, still half-asleep,
murmuring stuporous
thanks in the aquamarine morning.
Then I sat in my blue chair
with blueberry bagels and strong
black coffee reading news,
the obits, the comics, and the sports.
Carrying my cup twenty feet,
I sat myself at the desk
for ...

Read the full of An Old Life

Je Suis Une Table

It has happened suddenly,
by surprise, in an arbor,
or while drinking good coffee,
after speaking, or before,

that I dumbly inhabit
a density; in language,
there is nothing to stop it,
for nothing retains an edge.

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