When I muse aloud, "What should I post for Poetry Friday?" I can usually count on Atticus to suggest some Wallace Stevens. I've actually posted a fair amount about Stevens, as I find him pretty fascinating, so when Atticus said, "How about 'Not Ideas About the Thing but the Thing Itself'?" I said, "You're a genius."
Without further ado, here is the genius of my husband, Wallace Stevens, and spring:
Not Ideas About the Thing but the Thing Itself
by Wallace Stevens
At the earliest ending of winter,
In March, a scrawny cry from outside
Seemed like a sound in his mind.
He knew that he heard it,
A bird’s cry, at daylight or before,
In the early March wind.
(Read the whole thing here, at The Poetry Foundation.)
The wonderful Amy Ludwig VanDerwater has the round up today at The Poem Farm.