In an Artist’s Studio
One face looks out from all his canvases, One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans: We found her hidden just behind those screens, That mirror gave back all her loveliness. — Christina Rossetti
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How to Eat a Poem
Don’t be polite. Bite in. Pick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that may run down your chin. — Eve Merriam
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Thanksgiving Day
Over the river and through the wood, To have first-rate play. Hear the bells ring, “Ting-a-ling-ding!” Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day! — Lydia Maria Child
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That Bright
Just the passion of painters and poets trying to catch who they think we might be. — Heid E. Erdrich
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