Robert Lowell Poems
|2.||July In Washington||3/26/2015|
|4.||Falling Asleep Over The Aeneid||4/8/2010|
|5.||My Last Afternoon With Uncle Devereux Winslow||4/8/2010|
|6.||Sailing Home From Rapallo||4/8/2010|
|7.||Mr. Edwards And The Spider||4/8/2010|
|8.||After The Surprising Conversions||4/8/2010|
|9.||Home After Three Months Away||1/3/2003|
|11.||To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage||1/3/2003|
|12.||The Drunken Fisherman||1/3/2003|
|15.||Waking In The Blue||1/3/2003|
|17.||The Quaker Graveyard In Nantucket||1/3/2003|
|18.||Memories Of West Street And Lepke||1/3/2003|
|20.||Children Of Light||1/3/2003|
|21.||For The Union Dead||1/3/2003|
|22.||Man And Wife||1/3/2003|
|23.||"To Speak Of Woe That Is In Marriage&Quot;||1/20/2003|
|24.||The Old Flame||1/3/2003|
Comments about Robert Lowell
The Old Flame
My old flame, my wife!
Remember our lists of birds?
One morning last summer, I drove
by our house in Maine. It was still
on top of its hill -
Now a red ear of Indian maize
was splashed on the door.
Old Glory with thirteen stripes
hung on a pole. The clapboard
was old-red schoolhouse red.
Inside, a new landlord,
a new wife, a new broom!
Atlantic seaboard antique shop
pewter and plunder
shone in each room.
A new frontier!
No running next door
now to phone the sheriff
for his taxi to Bath
and the State Liquor Store!
Man And Wife
Tamed by Miltown, we lie on Mother's bed;
the rising sun in war paint dyes us red;
in broad daylight her gilded bed-posts shine,
abandoned, almost Dionysian.
At last the trees are green on Marlborough Street,
blossoms on our magnolia ignite
the morning with their murderous five day's white.
All night I've held your hand,
as if you had