Living Light, by Robert Sabatier (1923-) A child speaks and now the lark has come Collecting all the fire he has spoken Each goes his way and carries in his eyes The bright of dawn and of seasons renewed On the ground the child now sleeps and dreams. As soon as he says […]
Dawning, by Juan Ramón Jiménez Mantecón (1881-1958) The sun gilds honey on mauve and green fields rock and vineyard, hills and plain. Breezes make the blue flower fresh and soft on livid stone walls. There is no one now, or not yet, in the enormous readied fields which the lark decorates with crystal wings Here, there, open […]
War II, by Angela Johnson (1961-) My daddy had Vietnam dreams. Nightmares that used to rip him out of bed screaming and running into the living room. Helicopters machine-gunned down on him, and he used to yell that he couldn’t get the blood off. And near the end I didn’t even wake up anymore. I […]
First Snowfall, by James Russell Lowell (1819-1891) The snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white. Every pine and fir and hemlock Wore ermine too dear for an earl, And the poorest twig on the elm-tree Was ridged inch deep […]
The Prodigal Son’s Brother, by Steve Kowit (1938-) who’d been steadfast as small change all his life forgave the one who bounced back like a bad check the moment his father told him he ought to. After all, that’s what being good means. In fact, it was he who hosted the party, bought the crepes […]
Onions, by William Matthews (1942-1997) How easily happiness begins by dicing onions. A lump of sweet butter slithers and swirls across the floor of the sauté pan, especially if its errant path crosses a tiny slick of olive oil. Then a tumble of onions. This could mean soup or risotto or chutney (from the […]
Song of the Stormtrooper, by Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956) From hunger I grew drowsy, Dulled by my belly’s ache. Then someone shouted in my ear, Germany awake. Then I saw many marching Toward the Third Reich, they said. Since I had naught to lose I followed where they led. And as I marched, there marched Big […]
D. O. A. by Tim Dlugos (1950-1990) “You knew who I was when I walked in the door. You thought that I was dead. Well, I am dead. A man can walk and talk and even breathe and still be dead.” Edmond O’Brien is perspiring and chewing up the scenery in my favorite film noir, […]
Sick Boy, by Anne Ridler (1912-2001) Illness falls like a cloud upon My little frisking son: He lies like a plant under a blight Dulling the bright leaf-skin. Our culture falls away, the play That apes, and grows, a man, Falters, and like the wounded or Sick animal, his kin, He curls to shelter the […]
What I Did, by Jim Daniels (1956-) What are you going to do when your girlfriend’s pregnant neither of you have health insurance or a decent job and you’ve both been taking enough drugs to kill a horse or two? What are you going to do when she calls up from Wisconsin three states away […]