A Poem for Today

Dew

As neatly as peas

in their green canoe,

as discreetly as beads

strung in a row,

sit drops of dew

along a blade of grass.

But unattached and

subject to their weight,

they slip if they accumulate.

Down the green tongue

out of the morning sun

into the general damp,

they're gone.

~Kay Ryan, U.S. Poet Laureate

Poem for Today

Spring

by Kay Ryan

Winter, like a set opinion

is routed. What gets it out?

The imposition of some external season,

or some internal doubt?

I see the yellow maculations spread

across bleak hills of what I said

I'd always think; a stippling of white

upon the grey; a pink the shade

of what I said I'd never say.