For Irish Medieval Literature, from Sweeney Astray, Heaney’s version of Buile Suibhne.
from Sweeney Astray / by Seamus Heaney
The blackthorn is a jaggy creel
stippled with dark sloes;
green watercress in thatch on wells
where the drinking blackbird goes.
PIA: from December 2016, for cherubs aren’t just needed in December, from poetryfoundation.org.
from December / by Roger Pfingston
Lodged tight for days
in a corner of the wall,
ladybug can’t resist the tree
PIA: January 2014
from The Lost Pilot / by James Tate
and you, passing over again,
fast, perfect, and unwilling
to tell me that you are doing
well
For it seems like a good time for this one, from The Lorax.
from The Lorax / by Dr. Seuss
At the far end of town
where the Grickle-grass grows
and the wind smells slow-and-sour when it blows
and no birds ever sing excepting old crows…
is the Street of the Lifted Lorax.
For Mary. We will miss you so much. While I can’t exactly condone my own action, I looked for a poem to commemorate Mary Tyler Moore’s passing today at 80, and not finding what I wanted, I came back to this; so, please forgive, but this one’s by me. The complete poem is also here: https://michelepizarroharman.com/about/. From Sycamore Review, Winter/Spring 1997, where it was originally published. The journal’s current website may be found at: http://www.sycamorereview.com/.
from The Mary Tyler Moore Show: Ninth Episode / by Michele Pizarro Harman
Return to the place of new-driven snow. Become again Mary, Scarlett, Eve.
For one of our Elizabeths and for mauve countries and hemispheres, from No More Masks: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century American Women Poets, edited by Florence Howe.
from For Elizabeth Bishop / by Sandra McPherson
Your smaller admirer off to school,
I take the globe and roll it away; where
On it now is someone like you?
For the academy in all its versions, from No More Masks: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century American Women Poets, edited by Florence Howe.
from A Poem for my Most Intelligent 10:30 AM Class / Fall 1985 / by Sonia Sanchez
i had come to this room from other
rooms. footsteps walking from
under my feet. and i saw
your faces eavesdropping on shadows
For charts and small seas, from No More Masks: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century American Women Poets, edited by Florence Howe.
from I Might Have Sung of the World / by Sara Teasdale
I might have sung of the world
And said what I heard them say
Of the vast and passing dream
Of today and yesterday.
For women of every varying belief today, from No More Masks: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Women Poets.
from The Sisters / by Amy Lowell
Sappho would speak, I think, quite openly,
And, Mrs. Browning guard a careful silence,
But Emily would set doors ajar and slam them
And love you for your speed of observation.
For the day and its implications for everything, from an article on poetryfoundation.org:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/features/articles/detail/92130.
from Carolyn Forche’s epigraph for Against Forgetting / by Bertolt Brecht, translated by ______
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