The New York Times just published a poem about Robert Frost, but written by Dean Rader. I think it’s terrific, and dare to present it side-by-side with my own reworking […]
The Sun in Poetry: Remembering Frost, #1 Read More »
When I was in 4th Grade, my teacher read aloud Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.” Then she gushed in a warm-and-fuzzy way about how beautiful
The Sun in Poetry: Remembering Frost, #2 Read More »
Fishmonger I have taken scales from off The cheeks of the moon. I have made fins from bluejays’ wings, I have made eyes from damsons in the shadow. I have
Untitled Places among the stars, Soft gardens near the sun, Keep your distant beauty; Shed no beams upon my weak heart. Since she is here In a place of blackness,
January O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire, What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn Of death! Far sooner
Departed Days Yes, dear departed, cherished days, Could Memory’s hand restore Your morning light, your evening rays From Time’s gray urn once more,— Then might this restless heart be still,
Gulls Fearless riders of the gale, In your bleak eyes is the memory Of sinking ships: Desire, unsatisfied, Droops from your wings. You lie at dusk In the sea’s ebbing
The New Colossus Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame, With conquering limbs astride from land to land; Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand A mighty woman
Secrets Secrets infesting my half-sleep… did you enter my wound from another wound brushing mine in a crowd… or did I snare you on my sharper edges as a bird
In April this year, the World Parkinson Congress held a haiku competition, in part to rev people up for next year’s Congress in Kyoto, Japan. Traditional haiku, as it’s known
100 Haiku about Parkinson’s Disease Read More »