A Drink of Water by Seamus Heaney She came every morning to draw water Like an old bat staggering up the field: The pump’s whooping cough, the bucket’s clatter And slow diminuendo as it filled, Announced her. I recall Her grey apron, the pocked white enamel Of the brimming bucket, and the treble […]
MoreThings by Fleur Adcock There are worse things than having behaved foolishly in public. There are worse things than these miniature betrayals, committed or endured or suspected; there are worse things than not being able to sleep for thinking about them. It is 5 a.m. All the worse things come stalking in and stand […]
MoreAfter my last post, a depressing take on the holiday season, I feel like Bad Santa or Bad Party Guest, someone who hurries out the door after leaving the toilet clogged. Before December 25 rolls around, I want to clear the air, so to speak, with something more festive. (Also because I got a concerned […]
MoreAlcohol by Franz Wright You do look a little ill. But we can do something about that, now. Can’t we. The fact is you’re a shocking wreck. Do you hear me. You aren’t all alone. And you could use some help today, packing in the dark, boarding […]
MoreAlthough I’m an Irish lass by genes and inclination, my idea of a St. Patrick’s Day celebration is soda bread, black tea and Yeats. (If there’s an Irish version of “Bah humbug,” insert here.) Needless to say, I celebrate alone. But I left some poems by Yeats at the local Irish pub for those whose […]
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