Sunday Picnic With Homemade Puns

[poetree_admin]

jjhunter

Sunday, every Sunday, let's have a community picnic. It's probably been a long week, and it's lovely to have a few minutes to sit back and relax and enjoy some good conversation in a less formal space. Feel free to bring something for the Picnic Basket - a poem you liked this week, a thought you had or something you experienced, or even something completely unrelated to poetry whatsoever that you just feel like sharing. Just take a moment to say hello, and maybe have a bite to eat; no one is going anywhere fast, and the shade promises some relief from the everyday heat. Let’s get to know each other a bit better, here under the branches of the poet’s tree.

Comments

[anonymous_sibyl]

I fell into Eavan Boland's works this week. Here's an excerpt from Domestic Violence. (The full poem can be found here. She reminds me a bit of Elizabeth Bishop and Adrienne Rich. For some reason when I read this poem I found myself thinking of Bishop's "Sestina" and Rich's "Aunt Jennifer's Tigers."



4.

We failed our moment or our moment failed us.
The times were grand in size and we were small.
Why do I write that
when I don't believe it?

We lived our lives, were happy, stayed as one.
Children were born and raised here
and are gone,
including ours.

As for that couple did we ever
find out who they were
and did we want to?
I think we know. I think we always knew.