Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
Poetry: 1970s
To a Doctor Who Would Not See Me
By Dan Masterson
Picture me now, my breath hot
on your kitchen window,
The First Eight Day of The Beard
By Jane Kenyon
7. Centipedes resting on their laurels.
My Mother
By Jane Kenyon
She looks pretty. She always dresses up when she goes downtown.
Not the Hunter
By Edwin Kaye
if they are fish
in the open sea
I will not be the net
Before Sleep
By Edwin Kaye
if you rub the back of your child
at bedtime
his wife will be happy
At Kresge’s Diner in Stonefalls, Arkansas
By Edward Hirsch
I wonder if he would ever take me away
with him. I wish he was my husband instead of my customer!
Garbage
By Edward Hirsch
You are invisible as air
and as necessary, more efficient
than a flood leveling cities,
Away from the House
By Joseph Bruchac
Your body is this house,
collapsing into the seasons.
Snake Hill
By Joseph Bruchac
he brought in bags
filled with clicking rings
cut from the tails of arrow-headed rattlers
The Hitchhiker
By Joseph Bruchac
You are horrified.
Do you wish to understand?