For the season. This is not my home, but it sounds like a peaceful one, from poetry foundation.org.
from Winter Love / by Linda Gregg
I would like to decorate this silence,
but my house grows only cleaner
and more plain.
21st-Century Poetry
DPF / Dove
For a fellow Ohioan, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Testimonial / by Rita Dove
Back when the earth was new
and heaven just a whisper,
back when the names of things
hadn’t had time to stick;
back when the smallest breezes
melted summer into autumn,
when all the poplars quivered
sweetly in rank and file . . .
DPF / Fishback
For all those perfecting the skill of perfect packaging for those of us taking the material seriously at this time of year that glimmers on many levels, from poetryfoundation.org.
from A Copywriter’s Christmas / by Margaret Fishback
The Twenty-fifth is imminent
And every known expedient
Designed for making Christmas pay
Is getting swiftly under way
DPF / Graham
For drawing and dreams, from Poetry, December 2016 issue.
from Mother’s Hands Drawing Me / by Jorie Graham
I
dreamt I have to get this dress on, if
I get this dress on I will not die
DPF / Graham
For our fathers, from Poetry, December 2016.
from The Mask Now / by Jorie Graham
In last week wore red sleepmask over eyes day and night. Would
ride it up onto his forehead for brief intervals, then down, pulled by
hand that still worked. A bit. Sometimes shaking too much so just
cried eyes.
DPF / Su
For after the big meal, from Poetry, the December 2016 issue, which arrived in the mail today!
from After the Dinner Party / by Adrienne Su
Dropping napkins, corks, and non-compostables
into the trash, I see that friends have mistaken
my everyday chopsticks for disposables.
DPF / Ali
For something to cover everything, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Snow on the Desert / by Agha Shahid Ali
‘So when I look at the sky, I see
the past?’
the past?’
‘Yes, Yes,’ he said. ‘especially on a
clear day.’
clear day.’
DPF / Tate
For magicians, from The Eternal Ones of the Dream.
from Saturdays Are for Bathing Betsy / by James Tate
How each sort of animal and
plant prevents itself from returning to dust
just a little while longer while I transfer some
assets to a region where there are no thinking creatures,
just worshipping ones. They oscillate along like magicians,
deranged seaweed fellows and their gals
DPF / Xu
PIA: from November 30, 2014.
For seasons, from Poetry, December 2014.
from The Forecast / by Wendy Xu b. 1987
little shimmer, little wilt startled
from out the arranging field
DPF / Ryan
For art, which we are still so lucky to have, whoever wins or loses, still always have, from The Best of It.
from The Narrow Path / by Kay Ryan
But for people who ascend
only by pleasure
there are no holding straps.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 