Adonis Poem by Hilda Doolittle


Rating: 2.8


Each of us like you
has died once,
has passed through drift of wood-leaves,
cracked and bent
and tortured and unbent
in the winter-frost,
the burnt into gold points,
lighted afresh,
crisp amber, scales of gold-leaf,
gold turned and re-welded
in the sun;

each of us like you
has died once,
each of us has crossed an old wood-path
and found the winter-leaves
so golden in the sun-fire
that even the live wood-flowers
were dark.


Not the gold on the temple-front
where you stand
is as gold as this,
not the gold that fastens your sandals,
nor thee gold reft
through your chiselled locks,
is as gold as this last year's leaf,
not all the gold hammered and wrought
and beaten
on your lover's face.
brow and bare breast
is as golden as this:

each of us like you
has died once,
each of us like you
stands apart, like you
fit to be worshipped.

Susan Williams 06 October 2017

She is a poet for the ages. She has never made me feel that I have wasted my time. She instead gives me food for thought and a model to emulate

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Edward Kofi Louis 06 October 2017

Lift, shift! Drift of wood-leaves. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

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Subhas Chandra Chakra 06 October 2017

A great imagery rich poem so lucidly written, thanks poet.

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Nudershada Cabanes 06 October 2017

Excellently penned. Rich in imagery.

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Kumarmani Mahakul 06 October 2017

Beautifully crafted. Thanks and congrtulations to his soul for being selected as the poem of the day.

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Hilda Doolittle

Hilda Doolittle

Bethlehem, Pennsylvania
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