National Poetry Month

I have always claimed to be a poetry agnostic, however, several years ago Valerie posted a poem that absolutely knocked my socks off. She supplied me with a list with recommended poets, starting with Mary Oliver and Billy Collins. Being in a library, I had endless choices and even found the trendy Charles Bukowski to be delightful. I'm happy to know there is more to poetry than The New Yorker and Robert Pinsky. I have fallen completely in love the poetry of Ted Kooser and hated to let this month get by without sharing a poem.

In an Old Apple Orchard

The wind's an old man
to this orchard; these trees
have been feeling
the soft tug of his gloves
for a hundred years.
Now it's April again,
and again that old fool
thinks he's young.
He's combed the dead leaves
out of his beard; he's put on
perfume. He's gone off
late in the day
toward the town, and come back
slow in the morning,
reeling with bees.
As late as noon, if you look
in the long grass
you can see him
still rolling about in his sleep.