PIA: from May 21, 2106.
For 10K’s on the beach and the hopes that we will fly like fleas, and for Mr. Knox, and Dad, from Fox in Socks.
from Fox in Socks / by Dr. Seuss
Through three cheese trees
three free fleas flew.
While these fleas flew,
freezy breeze blew.
Freezy breeze made
these three trees freeze.
PIA: from July 27, 2014.
Any day is a good day for myth making. This one’s from Literature: An Introduction to Fiction, Poetry, and Drama, 3rd Edition, ed. by XJ Kennedy (1983). More here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/barry-spacks
from Teaching the Penguins to Fly / by Barry Spacks (1931-2014)
it’s nothing like easy to start them moving;
she’ll leap and flap her arms to teach
the big idea
PIA July: from July 2, 2014.
More for the flowers. This one’s from The New American Poetry, ed. by Donald M. Allen (1960).
from Salute / by James Schuyler (1923-1991)
to gather one
of each kind of clover,
daisy, paintbrush that
grew in that field
Play-It-Again July: from 1.31.14.
from Sequestered Writing / by Carolyn Forché
What ghost comes to the bedside whispering You?
— With its no one without its I —
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…
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.
For the love of chicken wire and parts of boxes, from The Collected Poems of William Carlos Williams: Volume I, 1909-1939.
from Pastoral / by William Carlos Williams
No one
will believe this
of vast import to the nation.
For librarians and libraries, from What Work Is.
from Agnus Dei / by Philip Levine
There was weeping and gnashing. The lamb escaped
through an expensive, leaded windowpane
and entered the late afternoon flying low
over the houses
For the beauty of Chinese poetry, from Negative Blue.
from After Reading Wang Wei, I go Outside to the Full Moon / by Charles Wright
Back here, old snow like lace cakes,
Candescent and brittle now and then through the tall grass.
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.
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