Rook

Characteristics of Life By Camille T. Dungy A fifth of animals without backbones could be at risk of extinction, say scientists. —BBC Nature News Ask me if I speak for ...

Blue St. Bird by Michael Klein When Bert said “birds” I asked him why he loved them—a stupid question to ask anybody when it comes to hitching passion to something. ...

We've gotta consider the rhetorical situation of poetry! The audience you're writing for can help inform your purpose. If you're reading your poem at the presidential inauguration, that's a very ...

Lying While Birding By Naomi Shihab Nye Yes Yes I see it so they won't keep telling you where it is

Favorite is bucolics by Maurice Manning currently reading your emergency contact had experienced an emergency, time is a mother, and alive at the end of the world.

Night Dive BY SAMUEL GREEN Down here, no light but what we carry with us. Everywhere we point our hands we scrawl color: bulging eyes, spines, teeth or clinging tentacles. ...

Advice from a Caterpillar By Amy Gerstler Chew your way into a new world. Munch leaves. Molt. Rest. Molt again. Self-reinvention is everything. Spin many nests. Cultivate stinging bristles. Don’t ...

Blacksmith Shop by Czeslaw Milosz I liked the bellows operated by rope. A hand or a foot pedal – I don’t remember. But that blowing and blazing of fire! And ...

This Hour and What Is Dead by Li-Young Lee Tonight my brother, in heavy boots, is walking through bare rooms over my head, opening and closing doors. What could he ...

A Patch of Old Snow by Robert Frost There's a patch of old snow in a corner That I should have guessed Was a blow-away paper the rain Had brought ...

I've been looking for a place to put this poem. Thy beauty is so beauteous Thy booty is so booty-us When thou art away My heart, it feels so gray ...

they have cost themselves everything; they are indebted to the earth and stars.

dull knife cuts cold plums watch how they divide, sink in-- purple skin bloodies bamboo cutting board, how sweet the juice dribbles from my lips.

and if there were tears they were not shed over you. like leaves, they just fell.

On First Seeing a U.S. Forest Service Aerial Photo of Where I Live by James Galvin All those poems I wrote About living in the sky Were wrong. I live ...