pickYears ago, I came across the poem “The Taxi” by Amy Lowell, and its final line has lived in my brain ever since: “Why should I leave you, / To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?” I‘ve meant to read a collection of her poetry ever since, but we all know how the TBR intentions sometimes go. So when it became apparent that in spite of my best intentions in January, I definitely wasn‘t going to get around to reading any (let alone all ⤵️
SEPTEMBER, 1918
This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
Under a tree in the park,
Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
Were carefully gathering red berries
To put in a pasteboard box.
⤵️
“Decade”
“When you came, you were like red wine and honey,
And the taste of you burnt my mouth with its sweetness.
Now you are like morning bread, Smooth and pleasant.
I hardly taste you at all for I know your savour,
But I am completely nourished.”
#PoetryMatters | 11: #Years
📷: Made with Typorama
Pictures of the Floating World | 
This collection, published in 1919, is made up of two halves. The first is filled with tiny, exquisite poems that play with Chinese and Japanese forms, creating gorgeous crystal-clear images in word pictures. I had a hard time putting it down, savoring bite-sized poem after poem. ⤵️ 4w
Link to her poem “The Taxi” (which isn‘t in this collection): https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42984/the-taxi 4w