For women of every varying belief today, from No More Masks: An Anthology of Twentieth-Century Women Poets.
from The Sisters / by Amy Lowell
Sappho would speak, I think, quite openly,
And, Mrs. Browning guard a careful silence,
But Emily would set doors ajar and slam them
And love you for your speed of observation.
For the day and its implications for everything, from an article on poetryfoundation.org:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/features/articles/detail/92130.
from Carolyn Forche’s epigraph for Against Forgetting / by Bertolt Brecht, translated by ______
For watching oneself barrel through life and wanting to choose to be the self who goes back for the book, from Picnic, Lightning.
from I Go Back to the House for a Book / by Billy Collins
another me that did not bother
to go back to the house for a book
heads out on his own,
rolls down the driveway,
and swings left toward town
For rising to the occasion, which is hopefully what will happen on this day, from Picnic, Lightning.
from What I Learned Today / by Billy Collins
I had never heard of John Bernard Flannagan,
American sculptor,
until I found him on page 961
of the single-volume encyclopedia I am reading
at the rate of one page each day.
For reading, in this week before the Battle of the Books, from Picnic, Lightning.
from Marginalia / by Billy Collins
Sometimes the notes are ferocious,
skirmishes against the author
raging along the borders of every page
in tiny black script.
For the new landscape of the new year, and naturally, for this weekend’s playoffs, from Poems of Paul Celan, translated by Michael Hamburger.
from Draft of a Landscape / by Paul Celan
Lavas, basalts, glowing
stone from the world’s heart.
Wellspring tuff
where light grew for us, before
our breath.
For finally finishing the amazing play, A Raisin in the Sun, from one of my favorite poems, the epigraph.
from What happens to a dream deferred / by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
For weather, from an Iowan’s poem, from poetryfoundation.org. Our weather page here in the valley scheduled rain for every day this week; in our time of drought, anything from the sky met mostly ecstatic umbrellas this week.
from Ode to a Blizzard / by Tom Disch
For bookstores, from Memoir of the Hawk. When I was younger, I traveled the United States in search of great, used bookstores. I found so many! In related news, I miss you so much, Mr. Tate.
from Memory / by James Tate
Bookstore with a donkey in its heart,
bookstore full of clouds and
sometimes lighting, showers.
Books just in from Australia,
books by madmen and giants.
For the love of vowels, from Poetry, January 2017.
from An Owl (in Memory of Gil) / by David Shapiro
Owl small be enough
The child for all his feathers was a cold.
Oh wow the owl.
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