Donald Hall

(20 September 1928 - / Hamden / Connecticut)

Gold

Poem by Donald Hall

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 about Gold by Donald Hall

  • Dr Tony BrahminDr Tony Brahmin (9/16/2019 1:37:00 PM)

    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(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »
Gold Score Card

User Rating:
3,2 / 5 (19 votes)1



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Friday, March 16, 2012

Poem Edited: Friday, March 16, 2012