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On Sundays, We Read Poetry

Each Sunday, I post a brief introduction to a collection of poetry I've been loving. I include one poem that I think really sings. No review. No need. If it's here, you'll know I recommend it. If you have one to recommend (yours or someone else's), send it along. I'll do my best to be here every Sunday.


 

Stunned into near silence. That's how this collection has left me today. If you haven't yet read The Carrying: Poems by Ada Limón, you have been missing something spectacular. Here's just one example:


Instructions on Not Giving Up


More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out

of the crabapple tree, more than the neighbor's

almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving

their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate

sky of spring rains, it's the greening of the trees

that really gets to me. When all the shock of white

and taffy, the world's baubles and trinkets, leave

the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,

the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin

growing over whatever winter did to us, a return

to the strange idea of continuous living despite

the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,

I'll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf

unfurling like a fist, I'll take it all.


Want one more? Here she is reading "The Last Thing," next to which, in the margin, I wrote merely "yes."


 

The best books spark the best conversations! If you have thoughts to share, please feel free to email me at sarabethwest52@gmail.com. I promise a reply.

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