One of the beautiful days in April in Utah, talking about a beautiful sport in Boston. (OK, this year, there's very little beautiful about baseball in Boston, but last year was great and there's always next year.) Some American poetry today, because today feels like a good day to be an American.

This is not an easy poem. It's weird. Don't worry too much about getting it "right." That's not the point. This is a poem to take an interpretation (or partial interpretation, in my case, and probably yours, too) and go with it. There's something powerful in a poem that so absolutely refuses to allow for definitive interpretation.

### TEXT OF POEM

Amy Lowell's "Fenway Park: Study in Orange and Silver"

Through the spring-thickened branches

I see it floating,

An ivory dome

Headed to gold by the dim sun.

It hangs against a white-misted sky,

And the swollen branches

Open or cover it,

As they blow in the wet wind.

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