Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership


CreationEarth Nature Photos


Imagining Defeat

 She woke me up at dawn,
her suitcase like a little brown dog at her heels.
I sat up and looked out the window at the snow falling in the stand of blackjack trees.
A bus ticket in her hand.
Then she brought something black up to her mouth, a plum I thought, but it was an asthma inhaler.
I reached under the bed for my menthols and she asked if I ever thought of cancer.
Yes, I said, but always as a tree way up ahead in the distance where it doesn't matter And I suppose a dead soul must look back at that tree, so far behind his wagon where it also doesn't matter.
except as a memory of rest or water.
Though to believe any of that, I thought, you have to accept the premise that she woke me up at all.

by David Berman
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Imagining DefeatEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top David Berman Poems

Analysis and Comments on Imagining Defeat

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Imagining Defeat here.

Commenting has been disabled for now.