The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

Read the full poem >

San Sepolcro by Jorie Graham

In this blue light
     I can take you there,
snow having made me
     a world of bone
seen through to. This
     is my house,

Read the full poem >

From Meghan Aronson

Amanda Gorman's "The Hill We Climb" is one of my favorites that I often teach in classes during poetry month. The closing lines are especially powerful and timeless, and given her age, it makes her body of work even more impressive and relatable to students.

The Hill We Climb by Amanda Gorman

When day comes we ask ourselves,
where can we find light in this never-ending shade?
The loss we carry, a sea we must wade.
We’ve braved the belly of the beast.
We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace.

Read the full poem >

From Bruce Barton P '13 '16

Directive by Robert Frost

Back out of all this now too much for us,
Back in a time made simple by loss
Of detail, burned, dissolved, and broken off
Like graveyard marble sculpture in the weather,
There is a house that is no more a house
Upon a farm that is no more a farm
And in a town that is no more a town.

Read the full poem >

From Peter Durnan P 'XX 'XX

Two poems come to mind as favorites. One is Galway Kinnell's "It All Comes Back," about his kid's birthday party that goes all wrong. There are a couple of lines about being a parent that strike me as applicable to teachers, as well. He notes that it was his...  

...duty this time to protect them
and to help them to love themselves

Read the full poem >

The other is a poem called "Monet Refuses the Operation" by Lisel Mueller, a poem that used to be one of the Poetry Out Loud sanctioned poems. My child recited it and won the school's contest. Our own Hayden Keene recited it, as well, when she was a high school student. In it, Monet literally refuses an operation to improve his vision:  

I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels

Read the full poem >

From Sarah Barton P '13 '16

The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry is a poem that I feel in my body as much as my heart. It was the poem my mother chose to have read at her funeral, and one I hear in my head and share with others for a moment of "Grace in the World."

The Peace of Wild Things by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Poetry doesn't ask much of us. Just a few minutes and a willingness to sit with something beautiful. We hope these selections inspire you to slow down and spend some time with a poem. Read one aloud. Write one of your own. Share a favorite with someone you love.

Happy National Poetry Month from our English department.