It´s officially the end of National Poetry Month, and today is Poem-in-Your-Pocket Day. I´ve been looking through all the poems from this month and trying to choose a poem to print out, and sadly have a whole folder of unread poems in my email account from all the previous years. The best thing about Poem-a-Day is that you´re led to discover poets that you never knew about, brought to you right into your inbox. So I thought, to give more thought to them this year I´ll put up my favorite lines from each poem of this month. Because even if you don´t like something, there´s always something positive you can get from it. So go out and read some poetry today! Starting with one of my favorites of the month, here:
by Moya Cannon
Where an ash bush grows in the lake
a ring of stones has broken cover
in this summer’s drought.
Not high enough to be an island,
it holds a disc of stiller water
in the riffled lake.
Trees have reclaimed the railway line behind us;
behind that, the road goes east—
as two lines parallel in space and time run away from us
this discovered circle draws us in.
In drowned towns
bells toll only for sailors and for the credulous
but this necklace of wet stones,
remnant of a wattle Atlantis,
catches us all by the throat.
We don’t know what beads or blades
are held in the bog lake’s wet amber
but much of us longs to live in water
and we recognise this surfacing
of old homes of love and hurt.
A troubled bit of us is kin
to people who drew a circle in water,
loaded boats with stone,
and raised a dry island and a fort
with a whole lake for a moat.