April is National Poetry Month. To celebrate, we’re collecting poems and writings about poetry, with new additions by our literary critic every Friday.
The sun floats up, and stops. / The magpie waits to be two. The sparrow hides // beside the mailbox on its iron post, hedge / nailed together by thorns.
“Some days, although we cannot pray—because we are too busy, or because we are in too much pain, or simply because the words will not come—a prayer utters itself.”
