Poetry Friday: Falling | Carl Phillips
Falling | Carl Phillips There’s a meadow I can’t stop coming back to, any more than I can stop calling…
Falling | Carl Phillips There’s a meadow I can’t stop coming back to, any more than I can stop calling…
Riveted | Sarah Robyn It is possible that things will not get better than they are now, or have been…
Knowing the Earth | Nancy Wood To know the Earth on a first-name basis You must know the meaning of…
Gravity | Maura O’Connor Today I am fragile pale twitching insane and full of purpose. I’m thinking of my lover:…
The Abandoned Valley | Jack Gilbert Can you understand being alone so long you would go out in the middle…
Wait | Galway Kinnel Wait, for now. Distrust everything, if you have to. But trust the hours. Haven’t they carried…
Antilamentation | Dorianne Laux Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who…
Stations | Audre Lorde Some women love to wait for life for a ring in the June light for a…
Introduction to Poetry | Billy Collins I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light…