The Other Place

By William Logan b. 1950 William Logan
The leaves had fallen in that sullen place,
but none around him knew just where they were.
The sky revealed no sun. A ragged blur
remained where each man's face had been a face.

Two angels soon crept forth with trays of bread,
circling among the lost like prison guards.
Love is not love, unless its will affords
forgiveness for the words that are not said.

Still he could not believe that this was Hell,
that others sent before him did not know;
yet, once his name and memory grew faint,
it was no worse, perhaps, than a cheap motel.
It is the love of failure makes a saint.
He stood up then, but did not try to go.

Source: Poetry (April 2005).

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This poem originally appeared in the April 2005 issue of Poetry magazine

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April 2005

Biography

Poet and critic William Logan was born in Boston in 1950 and earned degrees from Yale University and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop. Since 1975, his work—both poetry and criticism—has regularly appeared in major journals and publications such as the New Yorker, the New York Times, the Paris Review, Poetry, and the New Criterion. He is the author of numerous books of poetry, including Sad-Faced Men (1982), Sullen Weedy Lakes (1988), . . .

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Poem Categorization

SUBJECT Faith & Doubt, Religion, Living, Death, Christianity

Poetic Terms Sonnet

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