For the day, from Academy of American Poets.
from The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner / by Randall Jarrell (1914-1965)
Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life,
I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters.
Month: November 2015
DPF / Robertson
For weather reports, from the weather, by Lisa Robertson.
from Monday / by Lisa Robertson, b.1961
The day pours out space, a light red roominess, bright and fresh. Bright and oft. Bright and fresh.
DPF / McGrath
For a little bit of needed magic, from Poetryfoundation.org.
from Nights on Planet Earth / by Campbell McGrath
In the night I will walk the towpath among satellites and cosmic dust.
In the night I will cry to the roots of potted plants in empty offices.
In the night I will gather the feathers of pigeons in a honey jar.
DPF / Reece
For the littlest ones and chaplains, from American Poets, Spring-Summer 2014.
from ICU / by Spencer Reece
In the neonatal ICU, newborns breathed,
blue, spider-delicate in nests of tubes.
A Sunday of themselves, their tissue purpled,
their eyelids the film on old water in a well
DPF / Zens
For yellow books, from my childhood library.
from The Happy Book / by Patricia Martin Zens
And happy tastes, like pumpkin pies,
And anyone about my size.
DPF / Lies
For bats in polka dot bathing suits, from my little boy’s library.
from Bats on the Beach / by Brian Lies
Little bats dig their sand caves deep,
as old bats lie in the moon, asleep.
DPF / Samyn
For postcards and rivers, from The Rose Metal Press Field Guide to Prose Poetry.
from Wish You Were Here / by Mary Ann Samyn
Then, cranes, three: a dream, a painting, a photograph.
DPF / Hu
For art, from The Rose Metal Field Guide to Prose Poetry.
from Lisboa, 1755 / by Tung-Hui Hu
I was watching Joao Manuel de Lourenco fashion a ring out of some inscrutable alloy
DPF / Jordan
For Novembers past, from poetryfoundation.org.
from The Flash Reverses Time / by A. Van Jordan, b. 1965
and the people look, look in that bewildered way,
in my direction, I imagine
walking slowly into my past
DPF / Tranströmer
For church bells and Wednesdays, from New and Collected Poems, by Tomas Tranströmer.
from November in the Former DDR / by Tomas Tranströmer
November offers caramels of granite.
Unpredictable!
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 