I’m no poet, and don’t I know it

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:

shakespeare sonnet




One thought on “I’m no poet, and don’t I know it

  1. I think the good poets are far more talented that the good novelists. There’s something super cerebral about saying so much in so few words and being able (generally) to rhyme them.

    Not something I can do
    because I think I’ve lost my favorite shoe.


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