For dreams, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Lullaby / by Maggie Dietz
If I had a ginko tree
I’d climb it in the evening.
If I had a marmoset
He’d climb the tree with me.
DPF / Levine
For librarians and libraries, from What Work Is.
from Agnus Dei / by Philip Levine
There was weeping and gnashing. The lamb escaped
through an expensive, leaded windowpane
and entered the late afternoon flying low
over the houses
DPF / Wright
For the beauty of Chinese poetry, from Negative Blue.
from After Reading Wang Wei, I go Outside to the Full Moon / by Charles Wright
Back here, old snow like lace cakes,
Candescent and brittle now and then through the tall grass.
DPF / Levine
For childhood and its many varieties, some endless ones and some too brief, from What Work Is.
from Growth / by Philip Levine
Then out to the open weedy yard
among the waiting and emptied drums
where I hammered and sawed, singing
my new life of working and earning,
outside in the fresh air of Detroit
in 1942, a year of growth.
DPF / Buchanan
For luck, from Must a Violence.
from The Cheshire Cat / by Oni Buchanan
‘I’ve never seen a real one!
If it bites me, that’s extremely
good luck,’ I remembered.
DPF / Wright
For Ohio, on a good night for Cleveland and the state, and for fathers on earth and beyond it, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Youth / by James Wright
I know his ghost will drift home
To the Ohio River, and sit down, alone,
Whittling a root.
He will say nothing.
The waters flow past, older, younger
Than he is, or I am.
DPF / Lee
For fathers on their weekend, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Little Father / by Li-Young Lee
little clock spring newly wet
in the fire, little grape, parent to the future
wine, a son the fruit of his own son
DPF / Berryman
For a little snow in the summer, from Poetry, October/November 1963.
from II Snow Line / by John Berryman
It was wet & white & swift & where I am
I don’t know. It was dark and then
it isn’t.
DPF / Johnson
For summer travels, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Summer / by Ronald Johnson
As the morning advanced the sun became bright and warm, cloudless, calm, serene.
DPF / Whitman
For the love of fathers and daughters, from poetryfoundation.org.
from On the Beach at Night / by Walt Whitman
Something there is more immortal even than the stars,
(Many the burials, many the days and nights, passing away,)
Something that shall endure longer even than lustrous Jupiter
Longer than sun or any revolving satellite,
Or the radiant sisters the Pleiades.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 