from The Book of Ephraim / by James Merrill
Yet even the most fragmentary message —
Twice as entertaining, twice as wise
As either of its mediums — enthralled them.
DPF / Blanco
From one of the snowbirds — as a child, I spent more than a few snowy, Ohio days on the beaches of Florida, building castles to the tune of cheerful (or so it seemed) grandparents, parents, tourists.
from Looking for the Gulf Motel / by Richard Blanco
I want to find The Gulf Motel exactly as it was
and pretend for a moment, nothing lost is lost.
DPF / Pereira
For poets, Sinatra, Sundays, 1963, The Central Valley, and poetry, from the marvelous mind of Mr. Sam Pereira.
from Swagger with Microphone, 1963 / by Sam Pereira
He’d briefly say
Something like, This is
A marvelous song
From the mind of
Mr. Sam Pereira,
Arranged by
Nelson Riddle.
DPF / Longfellow
Henri to Henry. My 86-year-old father-in-law can recite the first stanza of this poem from memory, a stanza he learned to recite in 5th or 6th grade, around 1938. So today, a memory in celebration of memory and in celebration, a Happy Birthday, to his forever-lovely bride.
from A Psalm of Life / by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
DPF / Kumin
Mothers and daughters. Thank you for all you leave behind for us. Today, visiting with Mother? And, Anne, who always needed you.
from Where I Live / by Maxine Kumin
Violets,
landlocked seas I swim in.
I used to pick bouquets
for her, framed them
with leaves. Schmutzige
she said, holding me close
to scrub my streaky face.
DPF / Cole
from Snow Moon Flower / by Henri Cole
as if the dark tops of the trees shone complacently
and a changing light filtered and breathed
against the lonely surface of everything.
DPF / Randall
Mothers and daughters.
from Momentum / by Cherri Randall
I’m filled with wonder for the things I know
that defy verse, that fill my daughter’s gaze.
DPF / Davis
Mothers and daughters. from Mother, / by Nicelle Davis
Through you I am born
again, again, again. In a gathering of light.
DPF / Blake
from Songs of Innocence: The Book of Thel / by William Blake
Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?
Or Love in a golden bowl?
DPF / Kocot
from Whether it says, you’re sick, go to the doctor / by Noelle Kocot
It was austere in its way, like dandelions.
Unlike dandelions, it bled furies.
Like dandelions, it shed everything.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 