For deer, from poetryfoundation.org.
from My Autumn Leaves / by Bruce Weigl, b. 1949
They know the boy
who lives inside me still won’t go away.
The deer are ghosts who slip between the light
Ohio
DPF / Howard
For museums, from Poem A Day, Volume 2, edited by Laurie Sheck.
from Disclaimers / by Richard Howard, b. 1929
Ensconced in the Upper Rotunda alongside a fossil musk-ox, the giant Tyrannosaurus
DPF / Hurt
From Fairytale Review, The Emerald Issue. From a fellow, (what’s the feminine of fellow, native?) native Ohioan.
from No Place (Dorothy Reconsiders) / by Rochelle Hurt
Out here the din of tin on tin hangs
just below an orphaned smudge of cumulus
DPF / Crane
For elegies. No Crane yet? This one’s from Chief Modern Poets of Britain and America, Fifth Edition, ed. by Sanders, Nelson and Rosenthal. A fellow Ohioan.
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/hart-crane
from Royal Palm / by Hart Crane (1899-1932)
Green rustlings, more than regal charities
Drift coolly from that tower of whispered light.
DPF / Nordgren
More blue. From Ploughshares, Spring 2014.
from Ghost Lessons / by Sarah Rose Nordgren
… the tender ward
and inner structures bordered
by a bright blue membrane.
DPF / Plumly
More clouds and sky from a fellow Ohioan. From Beltway Poetry Quarterly, http://washingtonart.com/beltway/plumly.html. More on Plumly at: http://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poet/stanley-plumly
from Constable’s Clouds for Keats / by Stanley Plumly
And you write them down in oils because of their
brilliance, and to remember, in its turn, each one.
DPF / Healey
Thank you, Forklift, Ohio! http://www.forkliftohio.com/
from A History of Bodies Reproaching
My child brought me
poison soup, and I gulped it down,
and it was amazing.
DPF / Seshadri
Poetry and math, kindred spirits. And, mountains.
from Imaginary Number / by Vijay Seshadri
The mountain that remains when the universe is destroyed
is not big and is not small.
is not big and is not small.
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 / Wright
Fathers and sons.
from Youth / by James Wright
I know his ghost will drift home
To the Ohio River, and sit down, alone,
Whittling a root.
Daily Poetry Fragments {Semi-Daily} 