Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

White Apples

Comment on White Apples and see more Donald Hall poems below.

Written by: Donald Hall | Biography
| Poems
 | Quotes |
 when my father had been dead a week
I woke with his voice in my ear 
I sat up in bed

and held my breath
and stared at the pale closed door

white apples and the taste of stone

if he called again
I would put on my coat and galoshes

Comment below this ad.

Top Donald Hall Poems