Alternate Take: Levon Helm by Tracy K. Smith ..... You know how, shoulders hiked nice and high, chin tipped back, So the song has to climb its way out like a man from a mine. Read more http://www.newyorker.com/fiction/poetry/2009/09/21/090921po_poem_smith#ixzz1sta9Wmzg
Grief In Greenness: Two Melancholy Poems Of Spring
Coming - Phillip Larkin On longer evenings, Light, chill and yellow, Bathes the serene Foreheads of houses. A thrush sings, Laurel-surrounded In the deep bare garden, Its fresh-peeled voice Astonishing the brickwork. It will be spring soon, It will be spring soon — And I, whose childhood Is a forgotten boredom, Feel like a child Who comes on a scene Of adult reconciling, And can understand nothing But the unusual laughter, And starts to be happy.
The Mower By Philip Larkin The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, Killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world Unmendably. Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not. The first day after a death, the new absence Is always the same; we should be careful Of each other, we should be kind While there is still time.