Hungry for Poetry
By Ralph Fletcher
First I saw him chew
a tender Japanese haiku.
He ate a foot-long sonnet
with mustard seed spread upon it.
He downed a bag of ripe cinquains
while walking in the pouring rain.
He gulped an epic, chomped an ode,
wolfed a couplet to cure his cold.
He munched so many limericks,
they made him absolutely sick.
He tried a plate of fresh free verse;
but all that did was make things worse.
He took some onomatopoeia
to cure a case of diarrhea.
He ate a poem of sixteen lines,
and after that he felt just fine.
The start of National Poetry month seemed like good time to take advantage of unusual park activity. Along a meandering two mile paved walk through the park sculptures and cell phone poetry have been set up for viewing and listening. At each sculpture you stop, dial a set number and listen to a brief description of how the sculpture was made and a narration of a poem. This was the first stop
A Norwegian Hut
Second stop listening to a poetry reading while overlooking the lake
I do hope the park changes the sculptures and readings from time to time to encourage repeated visits by people. It's a great concept.
by Robert Browning
The year’s at the spring
And day’s at the morn;
Morning’s at seven;
The hillside’s dew-pearled;
The lark’s on the wing;
The snail’s on the thorn:
God’s in his heaven-
All’s right in the world!