Poems begining by A
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Anticipation
© Thomas Hood
"Coming events cast their shadow before."
I had a vision in the summer light
A Song To David
© Christopher Smart
I
O THOU, that sit'st upon a throne,
With harp of high majestic tone,
To praise the King of kings;
A Winter Sunset
© Lord Alfred Douglas
The frosty sky, like a furnace burning,
The keen air, crisp and cold,
And a sunset that splashes the clouds with gold
But my heart to summer turning.
After Long Drought
© Mark van Doren
The whole world dreamed of this, and has it now.
Nor was the waking easy. The dull root
Is jealous of its death; the sleepy brow
Smiles in its slumber; and a heart can fear
The very flood it longed for, roaring near.
The spirit best remembers being mute.
A Poet at Twenty
© Donald Hall
Images leap with him from branch to branch. His eyes
brighten, his head cocks, he pauses under a green bough,
alert.
And when I see him I want to hide him somewhere.
Affirmation
© Donald Hall
To grow old is to lose everything.
Aging, everybody knows it.
Even when we are young,
we glimpse it sometimes, and nod our heads
An old life
© Donald Hall
Snow fell in the night.
At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish
mounded softness where
the Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made,
America
© Gertrude Stein
Once in English they said America. Was it English to them.
Once they said Belgian.
We like a fog.
Do you for weather.
Arabian Nights
© Nimah Nawwab
When the call of the hudud,
Echoes through the palm fronds
Carrying in their mists,
Visions, memories:
Allegiances
© William Stafford
It is time for all the heroes to go home
if they have any, time for all of us common ones
to locate ourselves by the real things
we live by.
An awful Tempest mashed the air
© Emily Dickinson
An awful Tempest mashed the air
The clouds were gaunt, and few
A Black as of a Spectre's Cloak
Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
Atavism
© William Stafford
1
Sometimes in the open you look up
where birds go by, or just nothing,
and wait. A dim feeling comes
Across Kansas
© William Stafford
My family slept those level miles
but like a bell rung deep till dawn
I drove down an aisle of sound,
nothing real but in the bell,
past the town where I was born.
A Ritual To Read To Each Other
© William Stafford
If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.
Ask Me
© William Stafford
Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
April 24
© David Lehman
Did you know that Evian spelled backwards is naive?
I myself was unaware of this fact until last Tuesday night
when John Ashbery, Marc Cohen, and Eugene Richie
gave a poetry reading and I introduced them
A Match With The Moon
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
WEARY already, weary miles to-night
I walked for bed: and so, to get some ease,
August 15
© David Lehman
My new Web site is dropdead.com
It's interactive you get to choose how
you'll die, where, and at what age
and it'll still come as a complete
A Lover Since Childhood
© Robert Graves
Tangled in thought am I,
Stumble in speech do I?
Do I blunder and blush for the reason why?
Wander aloof do I,
Lean over gates and sigh,
Making friends with the bee and the butterfly?
