It Could Happen Even in This Dull, Ruinous Landscape

A past poetry reading for our weary souls

I need poetry every day, but today more than most. This week more than most. In the midst of very warranted confusion, grief, disbelief, and fear, don’t stop looking for the marvels, my friends. Beauty exists. The little daily miracles still occur.

I began giving weeklyish poetry readings this time last year, on my birthday, starting with this one: "Black Rook in Rainy Weather" by Sylvia Plath and "But You Thought You Knew What a Sign Looked Like" by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer.

I think I’ve gotten better at reading aloud since; I know my soul has been fed by the act of sharing these poems with you.

You, my fellow readers and writers and teachers and thinkers and seers and poetry-lovers, have often been my “daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.” In these discouraging times, let us continue being that for each other, and for anyone who will listen and look and see.