I am April’s Fool. Or, “It is not enough that yearly… / April / Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.” (From “Spring” by Edna St. Vincent Millay)
Come as you are… Pour a drink. Share poetry. Join me for a series of National Poetry Month mixers in April.
As 2020 seems to stretch endlessly into 2021, here are a few poems that I hope will bring some comfort. Poems about 2020
This morning, a four-letter word was poking me in the forehead to wake up.
It’s starting to feel like every day is losing its magic. That’s why 2020 is the year I’ll write my book of poetry.
As fear and anxiety spreads, I wanted to try to give people comfort and hope through poetry.
I believe in the power of poetry to change the world—not in the form of large, over-orchestrated, time-consuming, and costly acts, but in the simple act of stopping, slowing down, and being thoughtful and observant in our day-to-day.
We want poetry that brings meaning to our lives, that helps us understand. That everything has meaning, even amid the chaos.
The poetry we want on our shelves is not only the poetry we want to go to time and time again, but also poetry that is beautiful in form.
The lines are short and poignant, and break where they make you think.
But also, the poetry you want on your bookshelf is the poetry that is beautiful in physical form—pages you want to run your fingers over, spines you want to line up along your wall, and words that sink into the paper as much as they sink into your heart, mind, body, soul.
Poetry, at its heart, is about articulating what you can’t put into words. Poetry goes deep, to the heart. Poetry is a stranger who “gets you”—wholly and without judgment. Poetry is connection.