First Memory

Long ago, I was wounded. I lived
to revenge myself
against my father, not
for what he was--
for what I was: from the beginning of time,
in childhood, I thought
that pain meant
I was not loved.
It meant I loved.

by Louise Gluck

Other poems of GLUCK (74)

Comments (46)

As you leave these dales Our hearts are deep and silent. We, standing in a single file Pray you a sojourn full of bliss. a virtuous heart pray goodly for all even in absent great 10++++
A wonderful tribute where beauty shines in every lines. Loved reading it.
This is great tribute to a co-worker from a well-meaning colleague. The entire poem is very hearty, written in very simple language. Glad to know you, dear poet. (10)
Sincere outflow of feelings as an everlasting memoir to your friend and a treasure to the world of poetry.
A lovely tribute and a memoir.
See More