Iowa City: Early April, poem by Robert Hass

IOWA CITY: EARLY APRIL (Excerpt)
by Robert Hass

This morning a cat—bright orange—pawing at the one patch of new grass in the sand-and tanbark-colored leaves.

And last night the sapphire of the raccoon’s eyes in the beam of the flashlight.
He was climbing a tree beside the house, trying to get onto the porch, I think, for a wad of oatmeal
Simmered in cider from the bottom of the pan we’d left out for the birds…

All this life going on about my life, or living a life about all this life going on,
Being a creature, whatever my drama of the moment, at the edge of the raccoon’s world—
He froze in my flashlight beam and looked down, no affect, just looked,
The ringtail curled and flared to make him look bigger and not to be messed with—
I was thinking he couldn’t know how charming his comic-book robber’s mask was to me,
That his experience of his being and mine of his and his of mine were things entirely apart,
Though there were between us, probably, energies of shrewd and respectful tact, based on curiosity and fear—
I knew about his talons whatever he knew about me—
And as for my experience of myself, it comes and goes, I’m not sure it’s any one thing, as my experience of these creatures is not,
And I know I am often too far from it or too near, glad to be rid of it which is why it was such a happiness,
The bright orange of the cat, and the first pool of green grass-leaves in early April, and the birdsong—that orange and that green not colors you’d set next to one another in the human scheme.

And the crows’ calls, even before you open your eyes, at sunup.

SOURCE: “Iowa City: Early April” appears in Robert Hass‘s collection Sun Under Wood: New Poems (HarperCollins, 1996), available at Amazon.com.

MORE: Read “Iowa City: Early April” in its entirety at poetryfoundation.org.

IMAGE: “Dancing in the Moonlight” by Kym Backland. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Robert Hass’s first collection, Field Guide (1973), won the Yale Series of Younger Poets Award and established him as an important American poet. Hass confirmed his ability with Praise (1979), his second volume of poems, which won the William Carlos Williams Award. In 1984, Hass published Twentieth Century Pleasures: Prose on Poetry, a collection of previously published essays and reviews. The book was well received and won many awards, including the National Book Critics Circle Award. His third collection of poetry, Human Wishes (1989), experimented with longer lines and prose paragraphs. 
Hass paid tribute to some of his non-Western mentors in The Essential Haiku: Versions of Basho, Buson, and Issa (1994), translations of short works by the most famous masters of the short Japanese poem. In 1996, Hass published another collection of poems, Sun Under Wood, which won theNational Book Critics Circle Award. From 1995 to 1997, Hass served as U.S. Poet Laureate and poetry consultant to the Library of Congress. Hass’s first book post-laureate, Time and Materials: Poems 1997-2005 (2007) won the National Book Award and the Pulitzer Prize. In the mid-1990s, Hass co-founded the River of Words organization, which provides tools for teaching ecoliteracy to young students through multidisciplinary, interactive curricula. Hass was Chancellor of the Academy of American Poets from 2001-2007. He teaches at the University of California, Berkeley, and lives in California with his wife, the poet Brenda Hillman.

Photo of Robert Hass by Margaretta Mitchell

April Snow, poem by Matthew Zapruder

APRIL SNOW 
by Matthew Zapruder

Today in El Paso all the planes are asleep on the runway. The world
is in a delay. All the political consultants drinking whiskey keep
their heads down, lifting them only to look at the beautiful scarred
waitress who wears typewriter keys as a necklace. They jingle
when she brings them drinks. Outside the giant plate glass windows
the planes are completely covered in snow, it piles up on the wings.
I feel like a mountain of cell phone chargers. Each of the various
faiths of our various fathers keeps us only partly protected. I don’t
want to talk on the phone to an angel. At night before I go to sleep
I am already dreaming. Of coffee, of ancient generals, of the faces
of statues each of which has the eternal expression of one of my feelings.
I examine my feelings without feeling anything. I ride my blue bike
on the edge of the desert. I am president of this glass of water.

SOURCE: “April Snow” appears in Matthew Zapruder’s collection Come on All You Ghosts. (Copper Canyon Press, 2010), available at Amazon.com.

IMAGE: “Snowflakes and Sakura Blossoms,” available free at this link.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Matthew Zapruder is the author of several collections of poetry, including Come On All You Ghosts (2010), The Pajamaist (2006), and American Linden (2002). With Brian Henry, Zapruder co-founded Verse Press, which later became Wave Books. As an editor for Wave Books, Zapruder co-edited, with Joshua Beckman, the political poetry anthology State of the Union: 50 Political Poems (2008). His own poems have been included in the anthologies Best American Poetry (2009), Third Rail: The Poetry of Rock and Roll (2007), and Legitimate Dangers: American Poets of the New Century (2006), as well as Poets on Teaching: A Sourcebook (2010). Zapruder’s honors include a Lannan Literary Fellowship and a 2008 May Sarton Prize from the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. He has taught at the New School; the University of California Riverside, Palm Desert; and the University of Massachusetts, Amherst’s Juniper Summer Writing Institute. He lives in San Francisco, where he is also a guitarist in the rock band The Figments.

Pear Tree, poem by Hilda Doolittle

PEAR TREE (Excerpt)
by HIlda Doolittle

Oh white pear
your flower tufts,
thick on the branch,
bring summer and ripe fruits
in their purple hearts.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  Hilda Doolittle (1886-1961) attended Bryn Mawr, as a classmate of Marianne Moore, and later the University of Pennsylvania where she befriended Ezra Pound and William Carlos Williams. She travelled to Europe in 1911, and remained abroad for the rest of her life. Through Pound, she  became a leader of the Imagist movement. Some of her earliest poems gained recognition when published by Harriet Monroe’s  Poetry magazine.  American Poetry Review noted that ”…by the end of her career [Doolittle] became not only the most gifted woman poet of our century, but one of the most original poets…in our language.” (Learn more at poets.org.)

Painting: “Pear Blossom” by Patti Siehien, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Find the painting at fineartamerica.com.

The Almond Tree, poem by D.H. Lawrence

THE ALMOND TREE (Excerpt)
by D.H. Lawrence

Here there’s an almond tree — you have never seen
  Such a one in the north — it flowers on the street, and I stand
  Every day by the fence to look up for the flowers that expand
At rest in the blue, and wonder at what they mean.

Photo: “Almond Tree” by Kristina Oda, OdaPhotography, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Find prints at etsy.com.

Wind on the Hill, poem by A.A. Milne

WIND ON THE HILL
by A.A. Milne

No one can tell me,
Nobody knows,
Where the wind comes from,
Where the wind goes.

It’s flying from somewhere
As fast as it can,
I couldn’t keep up with it,
Not if I ran.

But if I stopped holding
The string of my kite,
It would blow with the wind
For a day and a night.

And then when I found it,
Wherever it blew,
I should know that the wind
Had been going there too.

So then I could tell them
Where the wind goes…
But where the wind comes from
Nobody knows.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Alan Alexander Milne (1882–1956) was an English author, best known for his books about the teddy bear Winnie-the-Pooh and for his children’s poems. (Read more at wikipedia.org.)

ILLUSTRATION: “Girl with Kite” by Nancy Crandall (mixed media: acrylic on 16×20 Canvas; kite created from paper cut into triangles, yarn as string and cut bows glued to string), ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Inspired by street artist Banksy and his artwork of a girl with a balloon.

Wash, poem by Jane Kenyon

WASH
by Jane Kenyon

All day the blanket snapped and swelled

on the line, roused by a hot spring wind…
From there it witnessed the first sparrow,

early flies lifting their sticky feet,

and a green haze on the south-sloping hills.

Clouds rose over the mountain…At dusk

I took the blanket in, and we slept,
restless, under its fragrant weight.

Photo by haunted snowfort, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Song on a May Morning, Poem by John Milton

SONG ON A MAY MORNING
by John Milton (1608-1674)

Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger,

Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her

The flowery May, who from her green lap throws

The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.

Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire

Mirth, and youth, and warm desire;

Woods and groves are of thy dressing,

Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing,

Thus we salute thee with our early song,

And welcome thee, and wish thee long.

##

Painting: “Flowers” by Andy Warhol (1970)

In the Month of May, Poem by Robert Bly

IN THE MONTH OF MAY
by Robert Bly

In the month of May when all leaves open,

I see when I walk how well all things

lean on each other, how the bees work,

the fish make their living the first day.

Monarchs fly high; then I understand

I love you with what in me is unfinished.
 
I love you with what in me is still

changing, what has no head or arms

or legs, what has not found its body.

And why shouldn’t the miraculous,

caught on this earth, visit

the old man alone in his hut?
 
And why shouldn’t Gabriel, who loves honey,

be fed with our own radishes and walnuts?

And lovers, tough ones, how many there are

whose holy bodies are not yet born.

Along the roads, I see so many places

I would like us to spend the night.

##

Painting: “Apple Blossoms I” by Georgia O’Keeffe (1930)

May, Poem by Jonathan Galassi

MAY
by Jonathan Galassi

The backyard apple tree gets sad so soon,   
takes on a used-up, feather-duster look   
within a week.
 
The ivy’s spring reconnaissance campaign   
sends red feelers out and up and down   
to find the sun.
 
Ivy from last summer clogs the pool,   
brewing a loamy, wormy, tea-leaf mulch   
soft to the touch
 
and rank with interface of rut and rot.
The month after the month they say is cruel   
is and is not.

…From NORTH STREET, a collection of poems by Jonathan Galassi, available at Amazon.com.

Painting: “Apple tree blooming in late spring” by Steve Kuzma, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

May, Poem and Drawing by Maurice Sendak

MAY
by Maurice Sendak

In May I think it truly best
to be a robin lightly dressed
concocting soup inside my nest
Mix it once, mix it twice,
mix that chicken soup with rice.

…From CHICKEN SOUP WITH RICE: A Book of Months by Maurice Sendak, available at Amazon.com.