For a belated yesterday, from Poems 1962-2012.
from A Summer Garden / by Louise Glück
For a belated yesterday, from Poems 1962-2012.
from A Summer Garden / by Louise Glück
For baseball, from The Old Life.
from The Thirteenth Inning / by Donald Hall
When the moon rises, light standards cast eldritch shadows
on players who cast no shadows, and we observe four
transparent pitchers superimposed on each other,
from ghostly Babe Ruth past Cy Young and Smokey Joe Wood
to Parson Lewis.
For wishes, from poetryfoundation.org.
from The Minister of Culture Gets His Wish / by Mark Strand
The Minister of Culture goes home after a grueling day at the office. He lies on his bed and tries to think of nothing, but nothing hap-pens or, more precisely, does not happen.
For seashells and waves, from Heavenly Questions.
from Fusiturricula Lullaby / by Gjertrud Schnackenberg
A visit to the shores of lullabies,
So far from here, so very far away,
A floor of sand, it doesn’t matter where, And overhead a water-ceilings sways
For grace, from the FSG book of Twentieth-Century Latin American Poetry, edited by Ilan Stavans.
from The Disappearance of Luisa Porto / by Carlos Drummond de Andrade, translated by Thomas Colchie
No more searching. Silence the radios.
The calm of petals opening
in a blue garden
where hearts are unburdened
For pillars and dances, from Early Poems, 1935-1955.
from In Uxmal / by Octavio Paz
The time is transparent:
even if the bird is invisible,
let us see the color of his song.
For storks and books, from Ordinary Words.
from Reading / by Ruth Stone
The girl wraps her hands in her apron.
Small yellow flowers
have clumped among the tussocks
of coarse grass.
For the day and for those missing it, from poetryfoundation.org.
from flag / by Jacqueline Woodson
and once offstage, we run free, sing
‘America the Beautiful’ and ‘The Star-Spangled Banner’
far away from our families—knowing every word
For full circles and the sea, from Selected Poems.
from Flowers by the Sea / by William Carlos Williams
When over the flowery, sharp pasture’s
edge, unseen, the salt ocean
lifts its form–chicory and daisies
tied, released, seem hardly flowers alone
but color and the movement
For graduation season, and for our niece, who graduated from nursing school yesterday, from poetryfoundation.org. This is a repeated poem, but it bears re-visiting.
from The School Where I Studied / by Yehuda Amichai, translated by Chana Bloch
The windows of a classroom always open
to the future
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