Gold Poem by Donald Hall

Gold

Rating: 3.2


Pale gold of the walls, gold
of the centers of daisies, yellow roses
pressing from a clear bowl. All day
we lay on the bed, my hand
stroking the deep
gold of your thighs and your back.
We slept and woke
entering the golden room together,
lay down in it breathing
quickly, then
slowly again,
caressing and dozing, your hand sleepily
touching my hair now.

We made in those days
tiny identical rooms inside our bodies
which the men who uncover our graves
will find in a thousand years,
shining and whole.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 16 September 2019

we lay on the bed, my hand stroking the deep gold of your thighs and your back. We slept and woke entering the golden room together, imagination. gold, and l ove. tony

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Donald Hall

Donald Hall

Hamden / Connecticut
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