Jack Gilbert

(1925 - / Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania)

South - Poem by Jack Gilbert

In the small towns along the river
nothing happens day after long day.
Summer weeks stalled forever,
and long marriages always the same.
Lives with only emergencies, births,
and fishing for excitement. Then a ship
comes out of the mist. Or comes around
the bend carefully one morning
in the rain, past the pines and shrubs.
Arrives on a hot fragrant night,
grandly, all lit up. Gone two days
later, leaving fury in its wake.


Comments about South by Jack Gilbert

  • Susan Williams (1/28/2018 3:16:00 PM)


    I like this poem very much and I'd give it a 10 BUT the PH computer thingee is messed up and I can't do so- -one thing I do complain about - -beside the computer glitch- -is that Jack Gilbert seems to get bored by life a lot. Sounds like no matter what happens he finds it boring- -yawn- - scornful yawns. Poor baby. Yet he can write and write well. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Friday, May 4, 2012



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