Category: National Poetry Month

  • Detour 40

    40 Three or four drops per minute, the gutter assigns a steep crescendo to the slow, picking wind. Birds give way toward midnight, daybreak, dusk, a gathered loop indistinguishable from a low cloud, a harbinger, a loom–sand-drawn footsteps knotted in something that might resemble a pattern to the right eyes. Above all, cold, and the…

  • Travel Journal (Peru, 1987)

    Today, for the second time this week, I saw a hummingbird perched on one of the spindly maples by the jogging trail. They haven’t graced the white-flowering currants in my yard this spring the way they have in past years, so perhaps they’ve moved. The currants are nearly done blooming by now. Maybe it’s just…

  • Dappled praise

    I was going to write about mixed-language stage plays today, and I may get to that (if not, stay tuned–it’s one of my ongoing preoccupations, sure to reappear), but dabbling around, sampling other people’s blogs, I came across the Poetry Society of America‘s request that people share via Twitter the line of poetry that first…