By Naomi Shihab Nye
Valentine for Ernest Mann
You can’t order a poem such as you order a taco.
Walk as much as the counter and say, "I’ll take two"
and anticipate it to passed again to you
on a sparkly plate.
Still, i admire you spirit.
Anyone who says, "Here’s my address,
write me a poem," merits whatever in reply.
So I’ll inform a mystery instead:
poems cover. within the bottoms of our shoes,
they are napping. they're the shadows
drifting throughout our ceilings the moment
before we get up. What we need to do
is stay in a fashion that we could us locate them.
Once I knew a guy who gave his wife
two skunks for a valentine.
He couldn’t comprehend why she used to be crying.
"I proposal that they had such appealing eyes."
And he used to be critical. He used to be a major man
who lived in a major method. not anything used to be ugly
just as the international acknowledged so. He really
liked these skunks. So, he re-invented them
as valentines and so they grew to become beautiful.
At least, to him. And the poems that were hiding
in the eyes of skunks for centuries
crawled out and curled up at his feet.
Maybe if we re-invent no matter what our lives provide us
we locate poems. fee your storage, the bizarre sock
in your drawer, the individual you just about like, yet no longer quite.
And enable me know.
Quick preview of Red Suitcase (American Poets Continuum) PDF
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Extra resources for Red Suitcase (American Poets Continuum)
He's welcoming the bent weed, spinning the hay. Tying the shoelace to the stone. nobody solutions his questions larger than the cut up brick he hit with a hammer. Above him, 100 flying birds name out “Alone! on my own! on my own! ” on the center of the apple, on the center of the computer virus. A boy crammed a bottle with water. He enable it sit down. 3 days later it held the facility of 3 days. the guy WHOSE VOICE HAS BEEN TAKEN FROM HIS THROAT is still all supple palms and gesture dermis of language fusing its most interesting seam in fluent gentle with a raised finger dance of lips each one sentence entire he speaks to the shadow of leaves strung tissue paper snipped into tender flags on which aspect of the dialog did someone commence? donning skins the bright query mark of Mexico stands on its head like a solution anyone IS status at the ROOF OF the realm unusual success in recent times, you are saying, after weathering the worst success an individual may well identify. For days I mild a candle close to your photograph: Angels, locate this guy and keep on with him. I snip the final skinny sprigs of mint from the backyard and your loved ones whom I by no means knew crowds this apartment until eventually in the future, ready at a crossing mild downtown, i feel I’m you. It will get stranger being the following, amid those tangled histories, so unusual a few mornings say, “This back? ” and canopy their eyes. no longer precisely what I’d write in letters of comfort yet, brother, the leaves are going to sleep now, underfoot they fold their wings. A fearful squirrel babbles all day and the newspaper tells how chilly it used to be 100 years in the past. We wrap our sweaters tightly. How unusual to head on on your existence while the floor has shifted and shaken: our associates in Mexico urban don't cease dreaming of the opening. Who might say, lookup, believe, a person is status at the roof of the area? now not now besides. final week a clergyman advised the kids of a murdered lady, “One factor i'm certain of, God hates this. ” How busy He needs to be, blessing and hating, caring and loving, as we lug our burdens towards anyplace to set them down. This says not anything of burglars, how busy they have to be too, following each one wire to its equipment, and the names of pawn retailers: reasonable alternate, DIAMOND, huge nation, ready with open mouths to assemble what we lose. I can’t separate it anymore. shocked faces, twine of affection knotting with grief, sleepless little ones keen about their mother’s ground. And the day of blameless birds which all started all of it! And continuously does. Above curtains, slit of sky is lightening, natural band of sunshine round the room. A Mexico urban milkman pedals conscientiously, basket of shapely bottles clinking… he leaves his bicycle propped opposed to a wall. compliment an afternoon which wishes milk to get it going, compliment beds, cushions, drainpipes, the parable of containment which says our lives are the following, with doorways to stroll out of, doorways to shut in the back of us, even though each one evening the ground echoes extra deeply, the roof of stars turns out farther away. MY GRANDMOTHER within the STARS it's attainable we can't meet back in the world.