For all the football hysteria that one can pack into the last weekend of the season, and for all the imaginative headlines headed our way Monday morning, from Poetry Foundation.
from Hysteria / by Dionisio D. Martinez b. 1956
For Sears and Rembrandts, from The Best American Poetry, 2014.
from No Doubt About It (I Gotta Get Another Hat) / by Le Hinton, b.1952
how does a poet
fall back into the sky
For mailmen and armchairs, from The Best American Poetry 2014, Guest Editor, Terrance Hayes, Series Editor, David Lehman. A different one from Ms. Griggs, here:
http://www.pw.org/content/sky_girl_rosemary_griggs
from Script Poem / by Rosemary Griggs
CROW (V.O.)
Caw, caw, caw, caw.
For candles at dusk, from A Book of Luminous Things, edited by Czeslaw Milosz.
from Dusk in My Backyard / by Keith Wilson, b. 1927
pecans drop, rattle down —
the tin roof of our house
rivers to platinum in the early moon
For our January fog (which I love) whose job it is to keep the green at bay while inadvertently encouraging it, from The Oxford Book of American Poetry, edited by David Lehman.
from To John Keats, Poet at Spring Time / by Countee Cullen (1903-1946)
Somehow I feel your sensitive will
Is pulsing up some tremulous
Sap road of a maple tree, whose leaves
Grow music as they grow
No Auden yet? This one’s for and from Auden and for Ireland, from The Oxford Book of American Verse, edited by David Lehman (2006).
from In Memory of W.B. Yeats (d. January 1939) / by W.H. Auden (1907-1973)
By mourning tongues
The death of the poet was kept from his poems
For Greeks, Romans, and Massachusetts, from The Oxford Book of American Poetry, edited by David Lehman (2006).
from The Kingfishers / by Charles Olson (1910-1970)
will not indicate a favoring wind,
or avert the thunderbolt
For snow, from The Best American Poetry 2014.
from Emerald Spider Between Rose Thorns / by Dean Young
and who knew how much I’d miss
that inner light of snow
For trees, from Poem A Day, Volume 2, edited by Laurie Sheck.
from XXXV. “The moonlight behind the tall branches” / by Fernando Pessoa, translated by Edwin Honig and Susan M. Brown
The poets all say is more
Than the moonlight behind the tall branches.
For islands and swing sets, from Poetry Foundation. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/249500
from I Found a 1950s “Answer and Color-in Book” / by Jennifer Barber
One day the children played
in the kitchen.
in the cellar.
in the yard.
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