Holy Day
by Philip Levine
Los Angeles hums
a little tune —
trucks down
the coast road
for Monday Market
packed with small faces
blinking in the dark.
My mother dreams
by the open window.
On the drainboard
the gray roast humps
untouched, the oven
bangs its iron jaws,
but it’s over.
Before her on the table
set for so many
her glass of fire
goes out.
The childish photographs,
the letters and cards
scatter at last.
The dead burn alone
toward dawn.
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Николай Языков – Прощальная песня (В последний раз приволье жизни братской)
- Олег Бундур – После дождя
- Smoke Off by Shel Silverstein
- The Dream poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Lover’s Gifts XLIV: Where Is Heaven by Rabindranath Tagore
- Владимир Высоцкий – У нас вчера с позавчера
- Омар Хайям – Из края в край мы держим к смерти путь
- Essay On The Personal by Stephen Dunn
- Robert Burns: Thou Fair Eliza:
- Казимир Лисовский – Река Енисей
- Robert Burns: O Let Me In Thes Ae Night:
- Oh could my Mind
- Жан де Лафонтен – Две Козы
- America by Tony Hoagland
- Unanswered
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
Philip Levine ( 1928 – 2015) was an American poet best known for his poems about working-class Detroit. He taught for more than thirty years in the English department of California State University, Fresno and held teaching positions at other universities as well. He served on the Board of Chancellors of the Academy of American Poets from 2000 to 2006, and was appointed Poet Laureate of the United States for 2011–2012