Shadows Harriet Monroe 1860 – 1936 What is most near? Ah, sweet dead year- Thy fallen leaf And gathered sheaf,The presence that is fled,The vows that once were said- These are most near.
Swift speeds away Rose-crowned To-day. So far, so far Her light feet are!I look and see thy faceHaunting the upland place, Dear Yesterday.
The blooming flowers, The sunny hours- These cannot rest, These are half blest.But thou forevermoreArt mine, love, as of yore, And time is ours.

Mentioned in this episode:

Write After: National Poetry Month with One Poem Only

Write After is a way to encourage poets to listen and write, and use National Poetry Month to highlight how listening to poetry makes us better poets. I know I write the best when I’m surrounded by beautiful poetry–it’s part of the reason I created this podcast, and I want to encourage others to share this practice.

We'll get started in April. You can share to #WriteAfterOPO.

#WriteAfterOPO