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Philip Levine - The Unknowable

Los Angeles hums
a little tune --
trucks down
the coast road
for Monday Market
packed with small faces
blinking in the dark.
My mother dreams
by the open window.
On the drainboard
the gray roast humps
untouched, the oven
bangs its iron jaws,
but it's over.
Before her on the table
set for so many
her glass of fire
goes out.
The childish photographs,
the letters and cards
scatter at last.
The dead burn alone
toward dawn.

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Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1765 times | Comments and analysis of The Unknowable by Philip Levine Comments (0)

The Unknowable - Comments and Information

Poet: Philip Levine
Poem: The Unknowable
Volume: The Mercy
Year: Published/Written in 1999
Poem of the Day: May 31 2012
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