Four favorite stumbled-over poems most recently and why

There She Is” by Linda Gregg. “When I go into the garden, there she is. / The specter holds up her arms to show / that her hands are eaten off.” Dark but honest about the world and welcoming, no more so than in the final lines.

Baseball and Classicism” by Tom Clark. Because it’s October. Because so many of the month’s games have been great. Because this poem lives up to its name and manages to combine the two elements in such a short space. Because delight.

From Book of Hours” by Kevin Young. Imagery by comparison rarely has so light a touch, so easily worn a humanity or so cumulative a narrative effect. A poem you need to take a quiet moment to scroll slowly and read to yourself.

Repetition” by Kay Ryan. I’m a big Ryan fan, but not all of her poems grab me for days and don’t let go. This one did. I think it’s because I’ve been working at the same place for five years and, for the longest stretch in a long time, have no thoughts of leaving. Or it’s because I’ve been dating the same woman for four years and — after a couple relationships previously where four years was the end — we’re instead getting married in the spring. Or it’s because I walk from that woman to that work place every day, and my usual stores sit along the route. “Few are / the willing / and fewer / the champions.” Count me in, for these things I’ve mentioned above. Investigated and grown well, familiar is far from flatness.

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