Julie Hill Alger

Julie Hill Alger Poems

Julie Hill Alger Biography

Julie wrote many poems and stories, especially in the last few years of her life. Had she been able to stay with us longer, she certainly would have been able to share more of her work with us. She developed breast cancer in the spring of 1992, which metastatized to her bones by the summer of 1994. She passed over Amherst, Massachusetts on December 29, 1994. Julie Hill Alger, 67, of 94 High Street, died Thursday in the Amherst Nursing Home while on leave from her position as Office Manager of the University of Massachusetts Fine Arts Center Programming Office. Born in Norfolk, Virginia, March 13, 1927, she was the daughter of Rear Admiral James Albert and Marjorie (Hill) Alger. She was raised in Palo Alto, California and relocated to the east in 1968. A freelance writer and editor, she published many stories, poetry and haiku and was working on a novel. She was on the Steering Committee of the Western Massachusetts chapter of the National Writers Union; Past Executive Board member of the University Staff Association at the University of Massachusetts; Amherst Town Meeting member from Precinct 10; and member of the Ad Hoc Opera Company. She belonged to Amherst Writers and Artists, Friends of Amherst Stray Animals, NAACP, National Organization for Women, Friends of the Jones Library, Friends of the Fine Arts Center and was an enthusiastic participant in the Internet community. She truly loved living in "Emily Dickinson's town". She graduated from San Jose State College in 1966 and did graduate work at Simmons College and the University of Massachusetts. She attended writing workshops including the Mount Holyoke Writers' Conferences and was a writer in residence at the Cummington Community of the Arts in the summer of 1992. She leaves a daughter, Victoria Alger White, a brother Captain David M. Alger of Mercer Island, WA, two nieces and a nephew, an ex-husband, John White of Tustin, CA and many dear friends including David Rice, Michele Morris and Dawn Josefski.)

The Best Poem Of Julie Hill Alger

Luna

I walk home at August moonrise
past a bright window.
Inside the room
an old woman sees the full moon
and turns off the lamp.
Afterimage shines in my eye:
pale face, snowy hair.
Moonlight streams over the dark house
like cool milk.
When the lamp is out, is the woman
still standing there alone?
In memory, her upraised hand glows;
in the house it is darker than shadow.
I stand on the sidewalk,
moonstruck.
Metaphysics of an old lamp:
the shade has less meaning
than a soul's body.
Physics of a window:
Glass is thicker than night air,
thinner than wonder.
The question of whiteness
bears looking into.
So does a window.
Sounds of a moonlight night
are softer than rainwater.
Before responding to a face
at the window, first ascertain whether
it's looking out or looking in.
Also, whether it's the moon
or someone else.
None of this, of course,
explains the perfumes of August
or the way the moon silvers the grass.
Turn around and look again-
She is still there.
The first question has not
been answered. What was it?

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