DPF / McPherson

For John Ashbery, too, one of our many missing voices who would have added thoughtful input to the international overflow of powerful emotion occurring on all sides of the political free-for-all, from poetryfoundation.org.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/145182/sitting-on-a-desk-together-at-smu-1982

from Sitting on a Desk Together at SMU, 1982 / by Sandra McPherson

There’s a bird crowd beachcombing.
Humans love
going to fragments —
it’s Greek.

 

DPF / King

For poets of all walks of life, from a poet in his own right.

from I Have A Dream / by Martin Luther King Jr.

And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, ‘Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!’

DPF / Holmes

Dear Poetry Followers, this one’s for Ms. Dickinson, from THE MS OF MY KIN.

from 1862.29 / by Janet Holmes

          who heard
                the Birds

          knew

    No one could
              perfect
that

                   Eden —

DPF / Ruefle

Dear Poetry Followers, this one’s for the clock, which gets a starring role this upcoming weekend, from The Most of It.

from My Pet, My Clock / by Mary Ruefle

A clock, on the other hand and against all appearances, is a very poor way to tell time, for all it does is sit there or hang on the wall, and very seldom does it do anything of itself to remind you of time.

DPF / Logan

Dear Poetry Followers, here’s a fragment from a new book published just this month; it’s from one of our favorite Floridians, and from the book, Rift of Light.

from Complaint / by William Logan

If there are dream houses,
are there undreamed houses

full of the things we desire
or only those we deserve?

DPF / Frost

Dear Poetry Followers, with all that these days bring in near and far-flung crises, may poetry bring some small blessings to shed light where there seems to be none, from poetryfoundation.org.

from October / by Robert Frost

O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;

One from our trees, one far away.