Sheep In Fog
The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.
The train leaves a line of breath.
Horse the colour of rust,
Hooves, dolorous bells –
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,
A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water.
Buy the Faber Book of 20th Century Women’s Poetry, ed. Fleur Adcock, from an indie bookseller here.
The Little Dandelion by Lula Lowe Weeden
The dandelion stares
In the yellow sunlight.
How very still it is!
When it is old and grey,
I blow its white hair away,
And leave it with a bald head.
The african-american poet Lula Lowe Weeden started writing poems as a child to immediate success. Her poems are intricate and direct.
“Caroling Dusk: an Anthology of Verse by Black Poets.” Edited by Countee Cullen.
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Because sometimes you can’t get a woman out of your mind. Not even by watching Buffy. Or The Good Wife. This poem especially the last line, shows so much tenderness and knowing…
Rosa Gutman Jasny “produced much of their work in Eastern Europe […] also found their way to New York at various stages in their lives. The lives of several women writers were spent in a perpetual state of wandering…”
The Faraway Moon
The faraway moon, has she already heard
That any minute now
She’s to become a world by herself?
No longer lotus flower, tender and bemused —
Just an ordinary drab world.
Today she shows us half her face,
drawn and pale.
That blond capricious moon —
What might she not do from rage?
Turn swiftly to her lords on high,
And scatter all dreams since time began,
Like dust into outer space?
Oh no, moon, don’t.
Poem by Rosa Gutman Jasny and translated from Yiddish to English by Etta Blum.
Treasury of Yiddish Poetry. Edited by Irving Howe, Eliezer Greenberg.
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