I've shared Anne Porter's work before, but not for awhile. Here's a beautiful one:
by Anne Porter
Whatever harm I may have done
In all my life in all your wide creation
If I cannot repair it
I beg you to repair it,
And then there are all the wounded
The poor the deaf the lonely and the old
Whom I have roughly dismissed
As if I were not one of them.
Where I have wronged them by it....
(Read the rest here, at The Writer's Almanac.)
The inimitable, incomparable Jama Rattigan has the round up this week.