The Writer's Almanac
Each day, Garrison Keillor reads a poem and relates stories of significant events touching literary history.
He said it doesn’t look good he said it looks bad in fact real bad he said I counted thirty-two of them on one lung before I quit counting them I said I’m glad I wouldn’t want to know about any more being there than that he said are you a religious man do you... Read more »
To Mercy Pity Peace and Love, All pray in their distress: And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness. For Mercy Pity Peace and Love, Is God our father dear: And Mercy Pity Peace and Love, Is Man his child and care. For Mercy has a human heart Pity, a human face: And Love,... Read more »
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine. I sent... Read more »
Now as the year turns toward its darkness the car is packed, and time come to start driving west. We have lived here for many years and been more or less content; now we are going away. That is how things happen, and how into new places, among other people, we shall carry our lives... Read more »
I needed a heavy canvas jacket riding the cold red tractor, air an ice cube on bare skin. Blue sky over the aspen grove I drove through on the way back to the field, throttle wide open, the empty wagon I pulled hitting all the bumps on the dirt road. In the high branches of... Read more »
They are olive green and elegant, tails curved to a fine point, these lizards that my daughter cares for so lovingly in the terrarium in the back of her science classroom in Brooklyn, miniature dinosaurs, motionless as yogis, fingers curled around a branch. She has worked long underpaid hours to create this wonderland while the... Read more »