Sunday Poem ~

Her breast is fit for pearls
by Emily Dickinson

Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a “Diver” —
Her brow is fit for thrones
But I have not a crest.
Her heart is fit for home —
I — a Sparrow — build there
Sweet of twigs and twine
My perennial nest.

http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/emily_dickinson/poems/6344

pearl concho-pearl-shell

Photo Credit: http://www.jewelrydoctor.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/concho-pearl-shell.jpg

Living Life to the Best of Your Possibility
‘One can judge a nation by the way it treats its most vulnerable’ ~ Aristotle
Victoria Kaloss

Sunday Poem ~

Rasp
by Maggie Smith

The heat rises in distorted gold
waves around fire
but without fire,
shimmering, twisting

anything seen through it.
The heat rises, rasping
the air it rises through,
scuffing the surface,

if the air has a surface.
The tall summer
field is the keeper
of secrets. Lie down

and forget your body, forgive
your body its bad cradle,
its brokenness.
Lie down and listen

to the rasp, to heat sweep
the pale, dry grass as if
it were your own
breathing, as if the field

you’ve pressed your shape into
is a broom in reverse,
a broom being
swept by the wind.

Copyright © 2017 Maggie Smith. Used with permission of the author.

http://academyofamericanpoets.cmail20.com/t/ViewEmail/y/D527E132D7EF3F3B/F7AC937704804FC38BD4C707EBCCB890

I am grateful to Maggie Smith for giving me permission to post her extraordinary poem.

“Rasp” touched my heart and had me catching my breath. I hope you all enjoy Maggie Smith’s “Rasp” with all your heart and soul.
Again, thank you, Maggie Smith, for your generosity!

Living Life to the Best of Your Possibility
‘One can judge a nation by the wy it treats its most vulnerable’ ~ Aristotle
Victoria Kaloss

Sunday Poem ~

australian willow
Photo credit: Victoria Kaloss (Australian Willow)

In the Desert
by Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”

Living Life to the Best of Your Possibility
‘One can judge a nation by the way it treats its most vulnerable’ ~ Aristotle
Victoria Kaloss

Sunday Poem ~ July 4th Edition

I Hear America Singing
by Walt Whitman

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe and strong,
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work,
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing as he stands,
The wood-cutter’s song, the ploughboy’s on his way in the morning, or
at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work, or of the girl sewing or washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day—at night the party of young fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

4th smoke fire water
Photo Credit: Victoria Kaloss

Living Life to the Best of Your Possibility

‘One can judge a nation by the way it treats its most vulnerable’ ~ Aristotle

Victoria Kaloss