Donald Hall was considered one of the major American poets of his generation. His poetry explores the longing for a more bucolic past and reflects the poets abiding reverence for nature. Although Hall gained early success with his first collection, Exiles and Marriages (1955), his later poetry is generally regarded … See more Born in 1928, Hall grew up in Hamden, Connecticut. The Hall household was marked by a volatile father and a mother who was steadier, … See more In 1989, Hall was diagnosed with colon cancer. Though his chances for survival were slim, he eventually went into remission. In 1994, his wife Jane Kenyon was diagnosed with leukemia and died 15 months later. … See more Hall attended Philips Exeter Academy and had his first poem published at age 16. He was a participant at the prestigious Bread Loaf Writers Conference, where he met Robert Frost, that same year. From Exeter, Hall went to Harvard … See more In addition to his accomplishments as a poet, Hall was a respected as an academic who, through writing, teaching, and lecturing, has made significant contributions to the study and craft of writing. As Liam … See more WebDonald Hall was born in New Haven and raised in Hamden, Connecticut, but spent summers, holidays, and school vacations on a farm owned by his maternal grandparents in Wilmot, New Hampshire. He took his bachelor’s degree at Harvard, then studied at Oxford for two years, earning an additional bachelor’s in 1953.
Donald Hall: A Poet
WebThe Poem Donald Hall. It discovers by night what the day hid from it. Sometimes it turns itself into an animal. In summer it takes long walks by itself where meadows fold back from ditches. Once it stood still in a quiet row of machines. Who knows what it is thinking? WebBy Donald Hall 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 Donald Hall, "White Apples" from White Apples and the Taste of Stone: Selected Poems, 1946-2006. black wall diablerets
Remembering Donald Hall (1928-2024) - The Pulitzer Prizes
WebSep 12, 2024 · My first poem, at twelve, was “The End of All.” At one point, I decided that if we flattered death, it might spare us, so I wrote “Praise for Death.” Between my two years at Oxford, I returned to... WebOct 31, 2024 · “If you say it’s a thrush, you’re going to get birders banging on your door wanting to see it,” she told Hall. “So even if it is a thrush, you might not want to say so.” She gave him a safe list... WebDonald Hall 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 Donald Hall blackwall diffuser