For poetry, which sits on the shelves with feet dangling down, calling to us all year long, from poets.org.
from The Poet / by Ralph Waldo Emerson
The etymologist finds the deadest word to
have been once a brilliant picture. Language is
fossil poetry.
For one summer activity that I hope you were able to enjoy this year, from poets.org.
from Fishing on the Susquehanna in July / by Billy Collins
I have never been fishing on the Susquehanna
or on any river for that matter
to be perfectly honest.
Not in July or any month
have I had the pleasure—if it is a pleasure—
of fishing on the Susquehanna.
For the end of students’ and teachers’ summers is near, and from a poet whose age is the same as mine in this poem, from poets.org, 1935.
from After Reading Tu Fu, I Go Outside to the Dwarf Orchard / by Charles Wright
East of me, west of me, full summer.
How deeper than elsewhere the dusk is in your own yard.
Birds fly back and forth across the lawn
looking for home
As night drifts up like a little boat.
For travel days, from the pedestrians.
from the other city / by Rachel Zucker
‘Yes,’ she thought, through a haze of jet lag, ‘there should be no limits placed on the value of a very fine cheese.’
For a favorite poem from poets.org.
from To My Favorite 17-Year-Old-High-School Girl / by Billy Collins
For memory, which sometimes deepens and sometimes disappears along the way, and for wishing the best parts would always stay, from poets.org. This poem is for the missing memories of the everyone-and-everyday kind.
from Forgetfulness / by Billy Collins
For August and the last few summertime days, from the pedestrians. Also, if you like podcasts, please try Rachel Zucker’s podcast, https://www.commonpodcast.com/, “Commonplace: Conversations with Poets (and Other People)”. The episodes are sometimes more than 90 minutes, and always more than you’d ever expect in the best ways.
from ocean / by Rachel Zucker
She sat on the deck, face in the shade, legs in the sun, reading books by people in the faraway city.
For beaches, cabbages, and kings, from poets.org.
from The Walrus and Carpenter / by Lewis Carroll
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand:
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
‘If this were only cleared away,’
They said, ‘it would be grand!’
For a poetry lesson that ends badly, from Jabberwocky & Other Poems.
from Poeta Fit, non Nascitur / by Lewis Carroll
Don’t state the matter plainly,
But put it in a hint;
And learn to look at all things
With a sort of mental squint
For wonder-land, from Jabberwocky & Other Poems.
from How Doth… / by Lewis Carroll
How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail
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