Did you see that John Meacham has a new podcast? I have listened to the first two episodes and it is well worth a listen!
Thing Two:
I know a few of you are obsessed with play Animal Crossings: New Horizons. Did you all see this???
Yes, Knitlandia proudly supports the Biden Harris ticket!
Thing Three:
In the everything old is new again theme…Did you hear about The House Dress on NPR? Apparently it is the new it thing! So, now all I will need is an apron and I can be my Nana!
And that’s a wrap for this week! See you all back here on Monday!
I find myself remembering the days of the week by my “blog calendar” and have felt the need to spend more time here, which is not a bad thing. Today I am joining Carole and friends to share three things with you today.
Some years ago, Kym introduced me to National Poetry Month, which, I confess, I did not know existed. I did not read poetry. My maternal grandfather did though – he not only read poetry, he had so many poems memorized! My favorites that he would recite were Trees by Joyce Kilmer, and Fog by Carl Sandburg. I know these poems, but did not really “get” why poetry. That is until Kym. Today I am going to share three things that I hope will draw you into the lovely world of poetry. I have found great comfort in these uncertain and unsettled days in poetry.
I just finished reading Susan Stewart’s Columbarium, a lovely little tome of incredibly moving poems. I have read it through three times now and each time I discover something new. But, every time I have read this book Dark the Star has called to me.
Dark The Star by Susan Stewart
Dark the star deep in the well, bright in the still and moving water, still as the night circling above the circle of stones the darkness surrounds. Dark the wish made on the star, a true wish made on the water’s image.
There’s no technique in the grass. There’s no technique in the rose.
Thing Three:
This is perhaps my favorite poem of all time. I discovered Derek Walcott via Kym’s blog. His poetry is the best discovery ever.
Love After Love by Derek Walcott
The time will come when, with elation, you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror, and each will smile at the other’s welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.
