The Writer's Almanac
Each day, Garrison Keillor reads a poem and relates stories of significant events touching literary history.
Early on, I noticed that you always say it to each of your children as you are getting off the phone with them just as you never fail to say it to me whenever we arrive at the end of a call. It’s all new to this only child. I never heard my parents say... Read more »
My friend’s kid runs the sideline, gets a pass, turns, and scores with a kick to the near post. It’s how the play should go, but at this age rarely does. My son sprints to him, arms up. They high five and celebrate a moment, then turn to jog back to their positions. Last year,... Read more »
I remember job hunting in my shoddy and nervous working class youth, how I had to wear nylons and white gloves that were dirty in half an hour for jobs that barely paid for shoes. Don’t put down Jew, my mother warned, just say Protestant, it doesn’t commit you to anything. Ads could still say... Read more »
Leave a door open long enough, a cat will enter. Leave food, it will stay. Soon, on cold nights, you’ll be saying “Excuse me” if you want to get out of your chair. But one thing you’ll never hear from a cat is “Excuse me.” Nor Einstein’s famous theorem. Nor “The quality of mercy is... Read more »
Tyger, tyger, burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire? And what shoulder and what art Could twist the sinews... Read more »
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove. O no, it is an ever-fixèd mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wand’ring bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although... Read more »