For taking hundreds of photographs a week, from Poetry, November 2016.
from Camera Eulogia / by Michelle Mitchell-Foust
Herodotus says the king made a bowl to leave behind
the memory of a number. We don’t know the number.
We don’t know if it was divisible by two or three.
For speeding through the world, as those athletes did today at the Central California Cross Country Conference #3! Congratulations to my Varsity girl and her #5 place today, which, with points from CCC#1 and CCC#2, earned her a spot on the 2016 Central Valley All-Conference Cross Country Team! From Nine Horses.
from Velocity / by Billy Collins
We must always look at things
from the point of view of eternity,
the college theologians used to insist,
from which, I imagine, we would all
appear to have speed lines trailing behind us
as we rush along the road of the world.
For running barefoot to know the time, from the kind friend who wrote the lovely, Mendeleev’s Mandala.
from A Sundial Explains the Uncertainty Principle / by Jessica Goodfellow
In the Dark Ages, serfs scratched sundials
into the bottoms of wooden clogs.
To discern the hour, they went barefoot,
dusty shoes upended to catch the sun.
PIA: from October 14, 2014.
Another for the children of October, from An Eyeball in My Garden, edited by two expert and generous poetry friends, Jennifer Cole Judd and Laura Wynkoop, and illustrated by Johan Olander.
http://www.eyeballinmygarden.com/2012/10/spotlight-interview-angela-mcmullen.html
from The Witching Hour / by Angela McMullen
On moonless nights she lies in bed,
With sleepless eyelids twitching.
For October birthdays and milestones, from The Art of Drowning, a favorite title. Drowning is an art, like everything else.
from On Turning Ten / by Billy Collins
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
For baby boys, from Picnic, Lightning.
from Moon / by Billy Collins
It’s as full as it was
in that poem by Coleridge
where he carries his year-old son
into the orchard behind the cottage
and turns the baby’s face to the sky
PIA: from October, 2014.
One for the children of October, from An Eyeball in My Garden, edited by Jennifer Cole Judd and Laura Wyncoop.
from Winking Wot Warning / by Debra Leith
The Wots I’ve seen are three feet high,
With pointed feet turned toward the sky.
For art, from The Best of It.
from Easter Island / by Kay Ryan
As planned,
a long chorus
of monoliths
had replaced
the forest
For many prayers for Florida, so that they can return to their music and flowers. From American Poetics in the 21st Century, edited by Claudia Rankine and Lisa Sewell.
from Year Zero / by Joshua Clover
Year Zero the mistakes have yet to be invented and music — well it comes down to inventing flowers.
For journeys of all kinds, from Poetry, October 2016.
from The Boatman / by Carolyn Forché
You tell me are a poet. If so, our destination is the same.
I find myself now the boatman, driving a taxi at the end of the world.
I will see that you arrive safely, my friend, I will get you there.
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