For the love of horses, from Poem-A-Day today at poets.org.
from To Bring the Horse Home / by Julie Bruck
A single bed with blanket the color
of factory-sweepings will suffice,
each day shaped to the same arc,
because days can only end when
the lock slides free on the stall’s
Dutch door, and I lead the horse in
For aural photography, from Ireland, and from poetryfoundation.org.
from Ansel Adams’ Aspens / by Ailbhe Darcy
To tiny Ansel Adams, newly arrived on this earth,
the sky is what it is, taut with its isness.
Some time before dawn, the section framed
by interior blackens and brightens and each tree out there
glows with itself, with the certainty of all Ansel Adams’
aspens.
For Tutsis and Hutus, from Crab Orchard Review, Volume 20, No. 2, 20 Years: Writing About, 1995-2015.
from Forgiveness / by Alexander Long
I don’t know what it means, but I try to
Do it, and mean it, and I don’t know
What it means. How is that possible?
For the love of poetry, from Contemporary Russian Poetry, selected and translated by Gerald S. Smith.
from 135 / by Yurii Kublanovsky
The fate of verse is world-sovereign,
though the column it makes be short,
if into the mysterious, missing the manifest,
it’s spectral remnant is inserted.
For poems by children, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Autumn / by Joan Mitchell
The fields are matted with sun-tanned stalks —
Wind rushes by.
For prose poetry, from Fairy Tale Review: The Mauve Issue.
from Love Story / by Monica Drake
‘I love you! I’ve always loved you! I love you forever!’
For nightingales and first wild roses, from Selected Translations, by W.S. Merwin.
from Song / by Jaufre Rudel (French, early-mid 12th century)
may it bring joy to all who listen
through Peitau Berry and Garonne
as far as Brittany in the end
For quilts and gnawings, from The Best American Poetry 2013, Guest Edited by Denise Duhamel.
from Wintering / by Kevin Young
Mourning, I’ve learned, is just
a moment, many,
grief the long betrothal
beyond.
For the squirrel ‘ s in paradise, from Contemporary Russian Poetry, selected and translated by Gerald S. Smith.
from There surely must be such places / by Dmitril Bobyshev
There surely must be such places,
where animals too have a simple life.
For doctors, from Selected Translations, by W.S. Merwin.
from On This Earth / by Blas de Otero (Spanish, 1916-1979)
(Chest
shaped like
Spain.)
Get lots of air, the doctor
told me
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