Spring

Spring –Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems Somewhere     a black bear       has just risen from sleep         and is staring down the mountain.      All night        in the brisk and shallow restlessness          of early spring I think of…

More Poetry

The Other Door By John Isbell This poem, if read right, Unlocks the secrets of the universe. It contains a galaxy. It contains an archipelago of galaxies. It contains an ant. It contains a sunset. It contains number and geometry.…

Poem: Angels

Angels –Maurya Simon from Ghost Orchid Who are without mercy, Who confide in trumpet flowers, Who carry loose change in their pockets, Who dress in black velvet, Who wince and fidget like bats, Who balance their haloes on hatracks, Who…

Sunday Poetry Fix

The Day You Were The Whole World By John Isbell As you worked in the garden, You expanded to become the entire planet. My breath stopped. You touched the earth around the crocuses From the other side of the world.…

Poetry Fix

Wedding –Alice Oswald from The Thing in the Gap Stone Stile From time to time our love is like a sail and when the sail begins to alternate from tack to tack, it’s like a swallowtail and when the swallow…

Two Poems

a song in the front yard by Gwendolyn Brooks I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life. I want a peek at the back Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed grows. A girl gets sick of a…

Some Glad Morning

Some Glad Morning –Joyce Sutphen from Naming the Stars One day, something very old happened again. The green came back to the branches, settling like leafy birds on the highest twigs; the ground broke open as dark as coffee beans.…

Poem: Peonies

Peonies –Mary Oliver This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready     to break my heart       as the sun rises,         as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers and they open–     pools of lace,       white and…

Poem: Marengo

Marengo –Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems Out of the sump rise the marigolds. From the rim of the marsh, muslin with mosquitoes, rises the egret, in his cloud-cloth. Through the soft rain, like mist, and mica, the withered…

Poem: Thai Demon

Thai Demon –John Isbell The Thai demon on my bookshelf Is engaged in the project Of forgetting as much as it can. This is a laborious and piecemeal process: Centuries of activity in Thailand Seem less relevant now To an…

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