Skip to main content

Jul
21
2009

Poem by Donald Hall ...
"In August Lauren climbs Mt. Kearsarge,

where I last clambered in middle age,

while I sit in my idle body

in the car, in the cool parking lot,

revising these lines for Kurt Schwitters,

counting nine syllables on fingers

discolored by old age and felt pens,

my stanzas like ballplayers sent down

to Triple A, too slow for the bigs."

poetry donald hall new yorker baseball

  • In August Lauren climbs Mt. Kearsarge,

     

    where I last clambered in middle age,

     

    while I sit in my idle body

     

    in the car, in the cool parking lot,

     

    revising these lines for Kurt Schwitters,

     

    counting nine syllables on fingers

     

    discolored by old age and felt pens,

     

    my stanzas like ballplayers sent down

     

    to Triple A, too slow for the bigs.

  • In August Lauren climbs Mt. Kearsarge,

     

    where I last clambered in middle age,

     

    while I sit in my idle body

     

    in the car, in the cool parking lot,

     

    revising these lines for Kurt Schwitters,

     

    counting nine syllables on fingers

     

    discolored by old age and felt pens,

     

    my stanzas like ballplayers sent down

     

    to Triple A, too slow for the bigs.

  • 1 more annotation(s)...
1 - 1 of 1
Showing 20 items per page

Highlighter, Sticky notes, Tagging, Groups and Network: integrated suite dramatically boosting research productivity. Learn more »

Join Diigo
Move to top