Category Archives: American Life in Poetry

American Life in Poetry No. 481

One of the wonders of poetry is a good poet’s ability to compress a great deal of life into a few words. Here’s a life story told small, by Ivan Hobson, who lives in California. Our Neighbor: Every family that … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry No. 480

by Ted Kooser I like the looks of trellises and arbors and those miniature barns that keep your bushel baskets of tools dry. Here’s a poem by Frank Osen, who lives in Pasadena, about a garden shelter that’s returning to … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry No. 479

by Ted Kooser The Impressionists, on both sides of the Atlantic, gave us a number of handsome paintings of rural scenes, and here’s a poem by the distinguished American poet, Catharine Savage Brosman, that offers us just such a picture, … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry No. 478

by Ted Kooser Peter Everwine is a poet whose work I have admired for many years. Here is a poem about an experience many of us have shared. Everwine lives in California, but what happens in this poem happens every … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry No. 477

by Ted Kooser When a poem has a strong story to tell, the simplest and most direct language is often the best choice because the poet may not want literary effects to get in the way of the message. Here’s … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry No. 476

by Ted Kooser Parents and children. Sometimes it seems that’s all there is to life. In this poem Donna Spector, from New York state, gives us a ride that many of us may have taken, hanging on for dear life. … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry, No. 475

by Ted Kooser Those of us who live on the arid Great Plains love to hear rain on the roof. Not hail, but rain. William Jolliff, a poet from Oregon, where it rains all the time, has done a fine … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry, No. 474

by Ted Kooser Let’s celebrate the first warm days of spring with a poem for mushroom hunters, this one by Amy Fleury, who lives in Louisiana. First Morel Up from wood rot, wrinkling up from duff and homely damps, spore-born … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry, No. 473

by Ted Kooser I was born in April and have never agreed with T.S. Eliot that it is “the cruellest month.” Why would I want to have been born from that? Here’s Robert Hedin, who lives in Minnesota, showing us … Continue reading

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American Life in Poetry No. 472

by Ted Kooser What might have been? I’d guess we’ve all asked that at one time or another. Here’s a fine what-might-have-been poem by Andrea Hollander, who lives in Portland, Oregon. Ex Long after I married you, I found myself … Continue reading

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