CreationEarth Nature Photos
Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

White Apples

 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

by Donald Hall
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - White ApplesEmail Poem |

Top Donald Hall Poems

Analysis and Comments on White Apples

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem White Apples here.

Commenting has been disabled for now.