I know this poem is super sad, but it’s one of my favorites from childhood. It has a good rhythm, is easy to memorize, and is incredibly dramatic.
I can’t explain why I like this poem so much. It’s whimsical and intimate and it makes me happy. Enjoy!
This Is Just To Say
I have eatenthe plumsthat were inthe iceboxand whichyou were probablysavingfor breakfastForgive methey were deliciousso sweetand so cold
Have you read Mary Oliver? Her poems are beautiful and real and full of nature. She is not stuffy or stickler about rhythm or sending you rushing for a dictionary. Her poems are like rain in spring and wind in fall – invigorating and life-giving. You can read several here.
In the meantime, I have one to share. This poem aptly described my day (many of my days!) and I thought it might resonate with some of you. Much as I love my writing and books and good job, some days I long to be back in the mountains, running and hiking and living practically outdoors. What about you?
I was sad all day, and why not. There I was, books piled
on both sides of the table, paper stacked up, words
falling off my tongue. Continue reading
I wak’d, she fled, and day brought back my night.
I ran across a poem at work the other day. My job involves a lot of copyediting, so I frequently browse the text without really reading it. This caught my attention though.
Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.
And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
‘Good-morning,’ and he glittered when he walked.
And he was rich – yes, richer than a king –
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.
So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went without the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.