An Old Life Poem by 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 this day's lifelong
engagement with the one task and desire.
Top marks for a reality poem, and I enjoyed a coffee with you++++10 regards
The daily routine of the old man beautifully portrayed.
'An Old Life' when Jane was still alive and what he did to pass the day. All his small actions are nothing compared to 'engagement with the one task and desire'. Caring for Jane.
I always feel like I am free like a bird in the sky after reading your poems. Your poems are gift to this site. 10 marks
He speaks to the writer in us- we have our routine, it prepares us for the retreat to the desk and the task before us- writing that poem, that short story, that novel. Absolutely nailed us whether we follow his routine or one uniquely our own!
It's a wonderful picture, how he only needs travel, coffee cup in hand, a short distance to his life's calling; each day another segment of the monument to living. His wife, Jane Kenyon, was a fantastic poet also.
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12/4/2024 4:36:09 AM # 1.0.0
Sometimes the best poems are just pictures of a normal moment in life. I like this poem. It is a snap shot, a journal entry.