Friday, July 20, 2012

Poetry Friday: Richard Wilbur


I have posted about Richard Wilbur, oh, about 111 times. But not for awhile. So, today, perhaps my favorite poem in the world about writing. And daughters.


The Writer
by Richard Wilbur

In her room at the prow of the house
Where light breaks, and the windows are tossed with linden,
My daughter is writing a story.

I pause in the stairwell, hearing
From her shut door a commotion of typewriter-keys
Like a chain hauled over a gunwale.

Young as she is, the stuff
Of her life is a great cargo, and some of it heavy:
I wish her a lucky passage.

But now it is she who pauses,
As if to reject my thought and its easy figure.
A stillness greatens, in which

The whole house seems to be thinking,

(Read the rest of the poem here, at The Writer's Almanac.)


The round up is at A Teaching Life.

4 comments:

Katya said...

That is such a wonderfully evocative poem about writing. Thanks for sharing it!

Tara @ A Teaching Life said...

I love this poem....it reminds me of my daughter Elizabeth, who loved to write at all hours, and how I,too, would listen in the stairwell to the sounds of her efforts to create something beautiful.

Karen Edmisten said...

Tara, I love the way this poem reminds me of my writing daughters, too. And glad you enjoyed it, Katya!

Doraine Bennett said...

One of my all-time favorites!