make some art, read some poetry
To Paint a Water-Lily
A green level of lily leaves Roofs the pond’s chamber and paves The flies’ furious arena: study These, the two minds of this lady. — Ted Hughes
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Catching Fireflies
Into warm evenings on a shadowy road The children ventured, and once more they knew Remarkable hours, when points of darkness glowed With fresh surprise as myriad fireflies drew Each to imagine stars, but stars at hand … — Thomas Carper
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Catfish
It nuzzles oblivion, confuses itself with mud. A creature of familiar taste … — Claudia Emerson
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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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