Category: Kooser, Ted

  • Two by Kooser

    Anne by Ted Kooser Her body was the cellar under her life. The marks of the old floods rounded the walls. Everything that she’d had had been carried outside and burned on the lawn. There was nothing left but a few broken jars and some spiders, eating each other under the stairsteps. Everyone seemed to […]

  • Worms, Worms, Worms

    The Early Bird by Ted Kooser Still dark, and raining hard on a cold May morning and yet the early bird is out there chirping, chirping its sweet-sour wooden-pulley notes, pleased, it would seem, to be given work, hauling the heavy bucket of dawn up from the darkness, note over note, and letting us drink. […]

  • Thaw; Kooser

    I have been gone from this page for a long time and it makes me quite sad to look at the lovely things that have been written months ago and gone unanswered, unacknowledged, unheard by me. Can I respond after such a wintry absence? Do comments in cyberspace keep their flavor when thawed? Mike, your […]

  • Epiphany

    Etude by Ted Kooser I have been watching a Great Blue Heron fish in the cattails, easing ahead with the stealth of a lover composing a letter, the hungry words looping and blue as they coil and uncoil, as they kiss and sting. Let’s say that he holds down an everyday job in an office. […]