At Louis Armstrong Airport, Jason takesMy black-clad arm as we approach the gatesWhere no Saint Peter stands as guard, and slakesMy cheerlessness. The Czech Republic waits.My son—the one departing—jokes, and makesMe laugh through tears. “You’ve raised a missionary,”My husband says, . . . . Continue Reading »
You’d think that after New Year’s boozy kisses,Back-slapping, and effusions in confetti,The last hors-d’oeuvres and passes at the Mrs.Beneath the hanging cardboard amoretti, Time would relax, agree to stay a while,Hang up his sandals, lay aside his shift,And sleep it off until the . . . . Continue Reading »
Beyond the window, morning sparrows made Their song as if the whole world’s goodness paid Its plenty out for them and them alone. The old saint heard their joy and squelched a moan As his legs, stiff and heavy still with sleep, Arranged themselves beneath his cassocked heap Of belly. Where had he . . . . Continue Reading »
If all the oughts and nots given by GodAre excommunicated from debate,Except in terms of conscience which she lauds,I’d like to blame our Holy Mother State. I’d blame this Novus ordo secularOn savants who with smiling faces say:“Neanderthals!” or “to the sepulcher!”They satirize or . . . . Continue Reading »
Never a housewife weary and embattledLooked up with more heartfelt dismay to hearHer lord’s rebuke. Her eyes are startled blear,And every straining nerve of her is rattled:She’d fought and butchered cows and bucking goats,And hammered out the gristle-knotted flesh(She looked for burns and . . . . Continue Reading »
(As in the movies, when the traffic swerves and skids to miss the hero in its way . . .) He toddled through the cars as if to play a game of chicken with his mother’s nerves. She wept to see him standing there, across the other side, her perfect smiling boy. All rosy-cheeked with death-defying . . . . Continue Reading »
Let Us Watch Richard Wilbur:A Biographical Studyby robert bagg and mary bagguniversity of massachusetts, 392 pages, $32.95 Richard Wilbur died peacefully, surrounded by family, on October 14. Though he had a full life, he did not receive the Nobel Prize or the biography that he deserved. . . . . Continue Reading »
Brave and awkward. Everything I knew I knew I do notBut isn’t it amazing how you are with me there now thenHere is what I’d like to say to youWhat if you sat down to write a poemAll about miracles and affection, which is to say, of course, LoveSo joyous and refreshing that you gape with aweAnd . . . . Continue Reading »
Snow that has fallen in the night Blankets at last the sodden clay And offers such peace to our sight As if it were the eternal day. Yet shoppers, now, begin to fight Among stripped shelves, and husbands say Some stinging thing to frazzled wives Just before the first guest arrives. What blessing . . . . Continue Reading »