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Poetry

Poetry news and analysis from The Nation



  • November 30, 2000

  • November 2, 2000

  • November 2, 2000

    Seducing the Sparrow (poem)

    Why must the noble rose
    bristle before it blooms, and why
    must the frost declare
    allegiance to the dew?

    Don’t tell me the robin’s
    forlorn invitation
    could not be denied.
    I’ve heard the magpie’s lies.

    Outside my window,
    twenty-seven juncos
    consort in a cedar tree,
    fat and happy to be free

    of all desire–ah, but
    that’s not true! See
    how they dance and turn
    when I throw out the seed.

    Sam Hamill

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  • October 5, 2000


  • September 28, 2000

    Nocturnal

    It is always among sleepers we walk.
    We walk in their dreams. None of us
    Knows what he is as he walks
    In the dream of another. Tell me my name
    . Your tongue is blurred, honeyed with error,
    Your sleep’s truth murmurs its secret.

    Tell me your name. Out at the edge,
    Out in the cold, out in the cold
    That came into the house in your clothes
    The wind’s hands hold onto nothing,
    Moaning, over the edge of the cliff
    The wind babble unintelligible.

    David Ferry

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