DPF / Edson

For crossings and prose poetry, from The Tunnel. And, for July, an experiment. I’m going to try Play-It-Again July, in which I look through my DPF archives and replay some favorites, daily.

from The Bridge / by Russell Edson

Tomorrow we cross the bridge. I’ll write to you from the other side if I can; if not, look for a sign…

DPF / Levine

For newborns, from What Work Is.

from Among Children / by Philip Levine

There was such wonder
in their sleep, such purpose in their eyes
closed against autumn, in their damp heads
blurred with the hair of ponds, and not one
turned against me or the light, not one
said, I am sick, I am tired, I will go home,
not one complained or drifted alone,
unloved, on the hardest day of their lives.

DPF / Levine

For childhood and its many varieties, some endless ones and some too brief, from What Work Is.

from Growth / by Philip Levine

Then out to the open weedy yard
among the waiting and emptied drums
where I hammered and sawed, singing
my new life of working and earning,
outside in the fresh air of Detroit
in 1942, a year of growth.