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  1. Couch on the Beach by Catherine Abbey Hodges | Friday, November 24, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/24
    Someone dragged a hide-a-bed onto the sand last night. This morning there it sits, empty as an open clam, clearly slept in, face to face with the Pacific. Less graceful than a Massey-Ferguson and less expected. Even the dogs, after marking it theirs, shake their heads. Still, I recognize the impulse, the urge to reach... Read more »
  2. Minnesota Thanksgiving by John Berryman | Thursday, November 23, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/23
    For that free Grace bringing us past great risks & thro’ great griefs surviving to this feast sober & still, with the children unborn and born, among brave friends, Lord, we stand again in debt and find ourselves in the glad position: Gratitude. We praise our ancestors who delivered us here within warm walls all... Read more »
  3. Winter Grace by Patricia Fargnoli | Wednesday, November 22, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/22
    If you have seen the snow under the lamppost piled up like a white beaver hat on the picnic table or somewhere slowly falling into the brook to be swallowed by water, then you have seen beauty and know it for its transience. And if you have gone out in the snow for only the... Read more »
  4. But I, Too, Want to Be a Poet by Fanny Howe | Tuesday, November 21, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/21
    But I, too, want to be a poet to erase from my days confusion & poverty fiction & a sharp tongue To sing again with the tones of adolescence demanding vengeance against my enemies, with words clear & austere To end this tumultuous quest for reasonable solutions to situations mysterious & sore To have the... Read more »
  5. Rural Delivery by Charles Simic | Monday, November 20, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/20
    I never thought we’d end up Living this far north, love. Cold blue heaven over our heads, Quarter moon like chalk on a slate. This week it’s the art of subtraction And further erasure that we study. O the many blanks to ponder Before the night overtakes us once more On this lonely stretch of... Read more »
  6. First Formal by Sharon Olds | Sunday, November 19, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/19
    She rises up above the strapless, her dewy flesh like a soul half out of a body. It makes me remember her one week old, soft, elegant, startled, alone. She stands still, as if, if she moved, her body might pour up out of the bodice, she keeps her steady gaze raised when she walks,... Read more »
  7. I Was Reading a Scientific Article by Margaret Atwood | Saturday, November 18, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/18
    They have photographed the brain and here is the picture, it is full of branches as I always suspected, each time you arrive the electricity of seeing you is a huge tree lumbering through my skull, the roots waving. It is an earth, its fibres wrap things buried, your forgotten words are graved in my... Read more »
  8. Audience by Connie Wanek | Friday, November 17, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/17
    How kind people are! How few in the crowd truly hope the tightrope will break. Rare’s the man who’ll shoot the Pope or throw his shoe at a liar, though joining in—that’s natural. An audience of St. Paul’s sparrows is easily bored, easily frightened. One blasphemy and off they fly. Even a polite dog will... Read more »
  9. A Pink Hotel in California by Margaret Atwood | Thursday, November 16, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/16
    My father chops with his axe and the leaves fall off the trees. It’s nineteen forty-three. He’s splitting wood for the winter. His gun leans behind the door, beside his goose-greased workboots. Smoke comes out of the metal chimney. At night I sleep in a bunk bed. The waves stroke the lake. In the mornings... Read more »
  10. Bell Bottoms and Platform Shoes by Maria Mazziotti Gillan | Wednesday, November 15, 2017 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor 2017/11/15
    A friend sends me a picture of herself from the 70s—bell bottoms, platform shoes a patterned button down shirt, hair puffed up from a perm. I can see the outline of the person she is now and she reminds me of myself in the 70s— married for eight years to a man I knew I... Read more »
The Writer's Almanac with Garrison KeillorThe Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor
A poem each day, plus literary and historical notes from this day in history

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