For taking hundreds of photographs a week, from Poetry, November 2016.
from Camera Eulogia / by Michelle Mitchell-Foust
Herodotus says the king made a bowl to leave behind
the memory of a number. We don’t know the number.
We don’t know if it was divisible by two or three.
For the season, from Ariel. I can’t believe she didn’t make it to the 21st-Century. What on Earth would have been next?
from The Moon and the Yew Tree / by Sylvia Plath
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary.
The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue.
For speeding through the world, as those athletes did today at the Central California Cross Country Conference #3! Congratulations to my Varsity girl and her #5 place today, which, with points from CCC#1 and CCC#2, earned her a spot on the 2016 Central Valley All-Conference Cross Country Team! From Nine Horses.
from Velocity / by Billy Collins
We must always look at things
from the point of view of eternity,
the college theologians used to insist,
from which, I imagine, we would all
appear to have speed lines trailing behind us
as we rush along the road of the world.
For an Adrienne Rich kind of day, from The Fact of a Doorframe.
from Bears / by Adrienne Rich
Wonderful bears that walked my room all night,
Where are you gone, your sleek and fairy fur,
Your eyes’ veiled imperious light?
For running barefoot to know the time, from the kind friend who wrote the lovely, Mendeleev’s Mandala.
from A Sundial Explains the Uncertainty Principle / by Jessica Goodfellow
In the Dark Ages, serfs scratched sundials
into the bottoms of wooden clogs.
To discern the hour, they went barefoot,
dusty shoes upended to catch the sun.
PIA: from October 14, 2014.
Another for the children of October, from An Eyeball in My Garden, edited by two expert and generous poetry friends, Jennifer Cole Judd and Laura Wynkoop, and illustrated by Johan Olander.
http://www.eyeballinmygarden.com/2012/10/spotlight-interview-angela-mcmullen.html
from The Witching Hour / by Angela McMullen
On moonless nights she lies in bed,
With sleepless eyelids twitching.
For October birthdays and milestones, from The Art of Drowning, a favorite title. Drowning is an art, like everything else.
from On Turning Ten / by Billy Collins
You tell me it is too early to be looking back,
but that is because you have forgotten
the perfect simplicity of being one
and the beautiful complexity introduced by two.
For your voice, however small, from Helen in Egypt. If the daughter of a mute swan can speak, so can you.
from Helen in Egypt, Book 5: 7 / by H.D.
do you hear me? do I whisper?
there is a voice within me,
listen — let it speak for me.
For work, from american poets, Fall-Winter 2016.
from The Last Shift / by Philip Levine
Soon the kids
would descend from these lightless houses,
gloved and scarved, on their way to school
with tin boxes of sandwiches and cookies.
For naming, from Poetry, April 2016.
from Toy Boat / by Ocean Vuong
toy boat
toy leaf dropped
from a toy tree
waiting
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