A New Poet
Finding a new poet
is like finding a new wildflower
out in the woods. You don't see
its name in the flower books, and
nobody you tell believes
in its odd color or the way
I wanted to share this one by Naomi Shihab Nye for a few reasons:
So. Poetry. Goats. Severance.
You're welcome.
(Read the rest of this short, delightful poem here, and you can listen to the poet reading it here.)
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The Poetry Friday round-up this week is being hosted by Laura Purdie Salas.
Photo thanks to RitaE at Pixabay.
This ("Sabbaths, 2005, VII") is a beautiful one from Wendell Berry.
It begins like this:
I know I am getting old and I say so,
but I don't think of myself as an old man.
I think of myself as a young man
with unforeseen debilities.
and ends like this:
And now you must go here to read the dozen or so lines between that exquisite beginning and that sublime ending.
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Carol Varsalona has the Poetry Friday round-up today at Beyond LiteracyLink.
(Image by Mirka at Pixabay.)