Billy Collins-The Chairs that No One Sits In

Collins takes a commonplace image and brings it to life by adding nothing and no one. Beautifully simple in its complexity.

Margaret Atwood-The Page
​
For every reader or writer who ever was or will be, this poem explores the mystery of our favorite pastime and holds a light up to it that sets it on fire.

William Carlos Williams-This is Just to Say

Hilarious. The plum is so delicious only because it wasn't yours to eat. We are lacking an English word for the schaudenfreud that is the joy of this poem.

Robert Browning-Porphyria's Lover

Oh so dark and twisty. This narrative poem tells a story with a surprise twist that thrills every time while revealing the complexities of what was on the minds of Romanticists with its final line.

Mary Oliver- The Summer Day

Not at all what you expect from the title, and contains one of my favorite quotes: "what will you do with your one and only wild and precious life?" Indeed, what will you do?

Eavan Boland-It's a Woman's World

The subtle trip through history to our front step brings to light the steady power of the quiet soul waiting her turn.
​
Sylvia Plath-Mushrooms

Share this poem with someone who has never read it but remove the title to see if they can guess what it's about. The conversation will be memorable, especially when you share the title.

Linda Pastan-To a Daughter Leaving Home

If you've done this, you know the feeling, and just how fast it goes is only revealed to us through the title.

Li-Young Lee-A Story

And this. Equally heart-wrenching in the parent's desire to hold on to the moment in front of them, and the child's utter, blissful ignorance.

Robert Pack-Echo Sonnet

For its unique play of this form alone this one is noteworthy, but the question and answer reveal the deepest, darkest of questions.

Adrienne Rich-Storm Warnings

Deeply moving with its double-meaning of those storms that well both without and within, the imagery holds the reader steady while reminding of the troubles we ourselves have seen coming.

Elizabeth Bishop-One Art

The art we all eventually master despite our insistence to the contrary. Letting go is hard to do.

Stephen Dobbyns-Missed Chances

Makes you want to grab life and make of it whatever you will because the images here are so startling you can't imagine joining the masses.

Seamus Heaney-Blackberry Picking

Yearly we make the same choice, and yearly we hope for different results. Nature works her magic quickly before it fades- time is of the essence to enjoy her bounty.

e.e. cummings-silently if out of not knowable

Many a love poem has been written but none so easily applied to that universal experience that is so inexplicably singular for everyone who finds themselves in it.

Emily Dickinson-Home

Can't leave out the poet of my youth and like this poem reminds it's difficult to go back again once you've traveled or grown so far. I always wonder what would be inside if the door was opened instead.

Robert Frost-Fire and Ice

The only poem I ever memorized, the juxtaposition is a reminder that both what we love and what we hate have the power to consume.

Wislawa Szymborzka-Under One Small Star

In its apologies, we recognize the fruitless guilt we carry for just being one small star in a multitude of possibilities.

Margaret Atwood-Bored

As is her way, a none too subtle reminder that we don't appreciate what we have until it's gone. Hold on to the minutiae, it might be what made you.

Billy Collins-Lines Lost Among Trees

An ode to the poem that was supposed to be written and dissolved before it was done. Here an ode to all the other poems and poets that too are unforgettable, but I have forgotten for the moment.

The time has come. Every year August arrives, and summer feels over.  Even with weeks left before the official start of school, there's a twinge in the air that says, be calm, reel it in, but instead we pack in as much action as possible not to miss a single second of what's left.  Regardless, the day has come to get supplies, and this one is particularly poignant as both Z & X will be on their way with their unbelievably stereotypical backpacks.  

Even fully stocked, and the day looming closer, it still doesn't feel real to have to get back into the routine of it, and yet I wonder at the chaos of getting a 6 & 4-year-old ready at 6:30 in the morning.  Even with friends who've done it before, it seems daunting, especially after these lackadaisical days of summer. They're excited, though, and so are we, really.  This is our next new page, and we will write it and read it with plenty of edits to be sure. I'll just have to accept Disney Princess backpacks and Ninja Turtle notebooks as they pick up their own pencils and begin to write for themselves.   

It seemed simple enough to have the kids pick the zucchinis for the cake recipe I found in the July issue of  Better Homes and Gardens. I even said, "Twist, don't pull," imagining the whole plant being ripped by the roots; there's been enough of that this summer.  But, it wasn't that simple.  While they were doing that I was getting out the bowls (cracked), the flour (crumpled sack), making sure there were enough eggs, and wondering if this is what every cook does.  Or, does every cook have a pristine kitchen, organized cupboards, all of the ingredients?

Then, the kids come in, dirty feet, 2 meager zucchinis--I thought they were bigger.  "We'll have to get the third," I say.  "Mom, um, we sort of pulled it out." Sort of?  We trek out.  It's salvageable, so I pack the hill around what's left of the plant and bring in the third, hopefully not last, zucchini.  Then, what was going to be done in an hour is about to begin, a half hour later. The kids want to help, so they climb up on the counter, and we grate (or food process), crush (or food process), and zest (would food process if I could).  The kids stir.  X tastes everything:  sugar, salt, flour, baking soda, vanilla; I draw the line at raw eggs, and he tells Z it's all delicious, but his face reveals otherwise.  

Just when we're about done I realize, no buttermilk. Is this a kitchen staple?  Apparently not, since according to Pinterest I can make it with milk and lemon juice.  X does not want to try this concoction.  They whisk--for real.  I didn't even use the mixer, and the cakes go in the oven.  CakeS, because I don't have the right size pan.  While the kids have suddenly lost interest, I'm cleaning up.  As I pick up the  magazine, I see there's an icing--not happening.  I'm also not garnishing with a zucchini flower, one because they're trampled and two because this can be as simple as it seems.  The cake comes out, the kids have it for lunch, and it is truly delicious, no weird faces, even.