I'm going Gluck on you again.
I find her subjects profound and her expression unique and excellent in almost every way, except that she has a tendency to veer away from the concrete and rely on abstractions, particularly in her longer poems. Her short poems are usually better. This gem was included in Edward Field's seminal anthology of American poetry, A Geography of Poets, in 1979, but doesn't seem to be one of her more popular poems. Why, I can't figure out. I'm posting it mainly because of the discussion going on in Richard Meyer's thread, "Good Friday".
***
The Gift
Lord, you may not recognize me
speaking for someone else.
I have a son. He is
so little, so ignorant.
He likes to stand
at the screen door, calling
oggie, oggie, entering
language, and sometimes
a dog will stop and come up
the walk, perhaps
accidentally. May he believe
this is not an accident.
At the screen
welcoming each beast
in love’s name, Your emissary.
— Louise Gluck
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