Thursday, June 28, 2007

441. Tension - Billy Collins

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"Never use the word suddenly just to create tension." –– Writing Fiction Suddenly, you were planting some yellow petunias outsid...
Wednesday, June 27, 2007

440. Circus Animals - Wislawa Szymborska

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Translated from the Polish by Walter Whipple Bears are tapping their paws to the beat, a lion jumps through a flaming hoop, a monkey in a ye...
Tuesday, June 26, 2007

439. The Face - Philip Levine

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. A strange wind off the night. I have come here to talk to you at last, here in an empty hotel room half the world away from home. Ou...
Monday, June 25, 2007

438 Tree - Jane Hirshfield

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. It is foolish to let a young redwood grow next to a house. Even in this one lifetime, you will have to choose. That great calm being, this...
Friday, June 22, 2007

437. The Clouds III (Scherzo) - William Carlos Williams

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. I came upon a priest once at St. Andrew's in Amalfi in crimson and gold brocade riding the clouds of his belief. It happened that we t...
Thursday, June 21, 2007

436. The Return - Jane Flanders

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(in memory of Agnes Plummer Schroyer, 1883-1921) This is not everything–– Cold moment under the sheet And whispers by the door, Flowers, thi...
Wednesday, June 20, 2007

435. Any Case - Wislawa Szymborska

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Translated from Polish by Graźyna Drabik and Sharon Olds It could have happened. It had to happen. It happened earlier. Later. Closer. Fathe...
Tuesday, June 19, 2007

434. Among The Multitudes - Wislawa Szymborska

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. I am who I am. A coincidence no less unthinkable than any other. I could have different ancestors, after all. I could have fluttered from...
Monday, June 18, 2007

433. Boats In Fog - Robinson Jeffers

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Sports and gallantries, the stage, the arts, the antics of dancers, The exuberant voices of music. Have charm for children but lack nobility...
Friday, June 15, 2007

432. Community - Sally Roberts Jones

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(Mr. Rogers, buried April 26, 1972) There has been a death in the street. Drawn curtains, collection for wreaths –– The historians call it C...
Thursday, June 14, 2007

431. The Buddha's Last Instruction - Mary Oliver

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. “Make of yourself a light “ said the Buddha, before he died. I think of this every morning as the east begins to tear off its many clouds ...
Wednesday, June 13, 2007

430. Cavalry Crossing A Ford - Walt Whitman

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. A line in long array where they wind betwixt green islands, They take a serpentine course, their arms flash in the sun–– hark to the musi...
Tuesday, June 12, 2007

429. Theatrical Impressions - Wislawa Szymborska

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Translated from the Polish by Adam Czerniawski In tragedy I find the sixth act most important: when they arise from stage battlefields, adju...
Monday, June 11, 2007

428. The Sun - Mary Oliver

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. Have you ever seen anything in your life more wonderful than the way the sun, every evening, relaxed and easy, floats toward the horizon a...
Friday, June 08, 2007

427. Cloisonné - Jane Flanders

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for Steve Fisher Near Kyoto, around 1900, Perfection was finally achieved In the shape of a small vase, Owing something to art nouveau And m...
Thursday, June 07, 2007

426. Places To Return - Dana Gioia

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. There are landscapes one can own, bright rooms which look out to the sea, tall houses where beyond the window day after day the same dark ...
Wednesday, June 06, 2007

425. Green Frog At Roadstead, Wisconsin - James Schevill

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. It is the way of a pleasant path To walk through white birch, fir, And spruce on a limestone trail Through the quiet, complacent time Of s...
Tuesday, June 05, 2007

424. Late Ripeness - Czeslaw Milosz

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. Not soon, as late as the approach of my ninetieth year, I felt a door opening in me and I entered the clarity of early morning. One after ...
Monday, June 04, 2007

423. Passing The Unworked Field - Mary Oliver

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. Queen Anne's lace is hardly prized but neither is it idle, look how it stands fiercely on its thin stem, how it nurtures its whi...
Friday, June 01, 2007

422. The Joy Of Writing - Wislawa Szymborska

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Translated by Stanislaw Baranczak and Clare Cavanagh Why does this written doe bound through these written woods? For a drink of written wat...