For curtains and stoves, from Poetry, December 2014. More on the poet here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/hannah-gamble
from I Wanted to Make Myself like the Ravine / by Hannah Gamble
Analyze the risks
of becoming a ravine.
21st Century American Poetry
DPF / York
For bears moving slowly, from The Best American Poetry, 2014. Thank you, Rachel! More on the poet, here:
http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/jake-adam-york.
from Calendar Days / by Jake Adam York (1972-2012)
Tomorrow’s
my birthday day in another month, a twelfth
of a reminder of something I can’t remember,
though they say I was there.
DPF / Wrigley
For the birds, in the best way, from The Best American Poetry, 2014, Guest Edited by Terrance Hayes, Series Editor David Lehman. More on the poet here:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/robert-wrigley
from Blessed Are / by Robert Wrigley, b. 1951
You, faithful ravens, staying on and saying
through the songbirdless winter
the biblical syntax of your declarations.
DPF / Wrenn
For Monday, which is not at all exactly like detainment, but something about it comes to mind. This one’s from The Best American Poetry, 2014, Guest Edited by Terrance Hayes, Series Editor David Lehman.
from Detainment / by Greg Wrenn, b. 1979
To break me down, at first one of them kept
tapping on my nose and whispering lyrics,
access codes, rapid sequences of Greek letters
and English surnames.
DPF / Emerson
For calendars and hospitals, from Poetry, December 2014. Sad to lose another poet this year.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse/178/3#!/20605323
from Daybook / by Claudia Emerson (1957-2014)
This is the season of her dying, and you
have kept it, I find, underneath the stairs
DPF / Gavin
For languages, from Poetry, December 2014. The whole poem can be found at:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/249110
from Strindberg Gray / by Knar Gavin
Excess was for days when my mother sat turning grape leaves
with three sets of pockets: Turkish, English, & Armenian, plus lemon to dry it all out.
DPF / Strand
So sad to see that Mark Strand died yesterday. Thankful he lived through this last Thanksgiving. Love this one from his book, The Weather of Words. Here’s a small part of it.
from Narrative Poetry / by Mark Strand
I wanted to remind them that the narrative poem takes the place of an absent narrative and is always absorbing the other’s absence so it can be named, and, at the same time, relinquishing its own presence to the awful solitudes of forgetfulness.
DPF / Harris
For bread and puddles, from Poetry, September, 2014.
from enough food and a mom / by Francine J. Harris
They ghost like the bushel of a snowflower.
Everyone is dead. now. says, the ghost.
DPF / Kooser
For elderly couples, from American Poets, Fall – Winter 2014.
from Splitting an Order / by Ted Kooser
and then to wait, offering the plate to his wife
DPF / Leith
One last one for the children of October, from An Eyeball in My Garden, edited by Jennifer Cole Judd and Laura Wyncoop.
from Winking Wot Warning / by Debra Leith
The Wots I’ve seen are three feet high,
With pointed feet turned toward the sky.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 