For sharing your gifts, from Paris Spleen, translated by Louise Varèse.
from The Fairies’ Gifts / by Charles Baudelaire
I refer to the law that, in such a case as the present when gifts run short, gives a Fairy the power to accord one more gift, provided she has imagination enough to create one on the spot.
For the endings which arrive too soon, from Poetry, May 2017.
from The End / by Emily Berry
If we can’t have everything what is the closest amount to everything we can have?
For hoping for wings at today’s track meet, from Selected Poems, edited by Richard S. Kennedy.
from (Poetry of the Eye) 12 / by E. E. Cummings
birds (
here,inven
ting air
U
)sing
tw
iligH(
t’s
v
va
vas
vast
ness.
For luck, which, in addition to practice, hard work, and skill, we most certainly would love to have at the next track meet, from poetryfoundation.org.
from To Luck / by W.S. Merwin
For the school year which nears an end, from The Apple that Astonished Paris.
from Schoolsville / by Billy Collins
Glancing over my shoulder at the past,
I realize the number of students I have taught
is enough to populate a small town.
I can see it nestled in a paper landscape
chalk dust flurrying down in winter,
nights dark as a blackboard.
For the Sunday that was, from The Rain in Portugal.
from On Rhyme / by Billy Collins
That’s why instead of recalling today
that it pours mostly in Spain,
I am going to picture the rain in Portugal,
how it falls on the hillside vineyards,
on the surface of deep harbors
For language, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Claribel / by Alfred Lord Tennyson
For the ocean and its persistence, from Selected Poems, edited by Richard S. Kennedy.
from 5 (maggie and milly and molly and may) / by E.E. Cummings
and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles, and
For the season, though I see some of our Colorado friends have snow today, from poetryfoundation.org.
from Spring / by Gerard Manley Hopkins
For running and Hermes and you running and she, among others, from poetryfoundation.org.
from The Runner / by Allen Grossman
He was running under the stars. The moon
Had not risen,
but he did not doubt it would
Rise as he ran.
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