Friday, May 8, 2009
I haven't done too much to celebrate National Poetry Month and now it is May. Spring is such a strange time. Things grow, brown turns green, the world becomes optimistic. Yet every year at spring time, for the last twenty some years, I've felt squeezed by all that tends to take place in Spring: recitals, allergy containment, weeding, planting, summer plans. Who has time for poetry?
But just browsing through the archives of the Writers Almanac has re-centered me again. Who has time for no poetry?
Here's one by Barbara Crooker where she includes the interstate, Hubble scientists, Li Po, and endings of childhood vacations:
Poem on a line by Anne Sexton
"We're all writing God's Poetry"
How can we get up
in the morning, knowing what we do? But we do,
put one foot after the other, open the window,
make coffee, watch the steam curl up
and disappear. At night, the scent of phlox curls
in the open window, while the sky turns red violet,
lavender, thistle, a box of spilled crayons.
The rest here at the Writer's Almanac.
Anastasia Suen is hosting Poetry Friday this week at Picture Book of the Day.
On a different note: you may have heard about the online auction to help Bridget Zinn, a YA writer, fight her stage four colon cancer. I've offered an original Chinese calligraphy. Head on over, and see if there are autographed books or paintings or manuscript critiques that you'd want to bid on.