On this last week of National Poetry month, I thought I’d make homage to the form by choosing a favorite poem and sharing it here.
I don’t currently read much poetry, and I certainly can’t write it. When I was in my twenties and in love with literature, I read much more, and even tried writing a few (I seem to remember one called Autumn Leaves, and another comparing myself to Penelope while my boyfriend was Odysseus, off having adventures while I waited patiently at home for his phone call. Blech.)
I remember reading and liking Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman, in particular; modern poets I liked tended to be women-Sylvia Plath or Marge Piercy.
Anyway, my reading of poetry waned, and I think I did the world a favor when I stopped writing it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a good poem now and then.
Since April is also the 400th birthday of Shakespeare, here’s my pick: