
This poem is from Selected Poems (2006) but was first published in The Bean Eaters (1960).
A Lonely Love
Let it be alleys. Let it be a hall
Whose janitor javelins epithet and thought
To cheapen hyacinth darkness that we sought
And played we found, rot, make the petals fall.
Let it be stairways, and a splintery box
Where you have thrown me, scraped me with your kiss,
Have honed me, have released me after this
Cavern kindness, smiled away our shocks.
That is the birthright of our lonely love
In swaddling clothes. Not like that Other one.
Not lit by any fondling star above.
Not found by any wise man, either. Run.
People are coming. They must not catch us here
Definitionless in this strict atmosphere.
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Megan Willome says
Just discovered Gwendolyn Brooks a couple of months ago, but I didn’t know this poem. Thanks!
Linda Reid says
Love Gwendolyn Brooks poetry. Her words flow so well.