Category Archives: Daily Offerings

Morning on the Island

Morning on the Island The lights across the water are the waking city. The water shimmers with imaginary fish. Not far from here lie the bones of conifers washed from the sea and piled by wind. Some mornings I walk … Continue reading

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After Whistler

After Whistler There are girls who should have been swans. At birth their feathers are burned; their human skins never fit. When the other children line up on the side of the sun, they will choose the moon, that precious … Continue reading

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Anchored

Anchored Our anchor’s too big for our ship, So we’re sittin’ here tryin’ to think. If we leave it behind we’ll be lost. If we haul it on board, we will sink. If we sit and keep talkin’ about it, … Continue reading

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Dawn Revisited

Dawn Revisited Imagine you wake up with a second chance: The blue jay hawks his pretty wares and the oak still stands, spreading glorious shade. If you don’t look back, the future never happens. How good to rise in sunlight, … Continue reading

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Lost

  Lost Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here, And you must treat it as a powerful stranger, Must ask permission to know it and be known. The forest … Continue reading

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So Much Happiness

So Much Happiness It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness. With sadness there is something to rub against, a wound to tend with lotion and cloth. When the world falls in around you, you have … Continue reading

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Harlem

Harlem What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore — And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat? Or crust and sugar over — like a … Continue reading

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There Will Come Soft Rains (War Time) There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound; And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum-trees in tremulous white; Robins … Continue reading

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Another Spring Poem

Another Spring Poem The lawn is filling with tiny flowers, almost invisible like the night’s first dozen stars: violet and sorrel, clover and strawberry, and the white corollas no bigger than commas I have never been able to name. I … Continue reading

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Good and Bad Luck

Good and Bad Luck Good luck is the gayest of all gay girls; Long in one place she will not stay: Back from your brow she strokes the curls, Kisses you quick and flies away. But Madame Bad Luck soberly … Continue reading

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