Found poetry: April 17, 1941 (one, four, twelve)
April 17, 1941: one, four, twelve one mop of old socks four pot holders of chicken-feed sacks twelve washrags of old towels
poetry
April 16, 1948: Milk for Roger (Prairie Fire)
April 16, 1948: Milk for Roger (Prairie Fire) Bright, chilly in wind had to have wraps I hemmed new dish towels fixed sleeves wider in everyday dress and in afternoon Joe ran in to say fire. Five gallons of gas meant to bring drill home caused sparks off manifold to ignite tall old grass wind …
Found poetry: April 15, 1940
April 15-16, 1940 Rained in night snowed this morning chicken for dinner baked biscuits for supper shortened the sleeves on Will’s new gray shirt put buttons on his suit ripped my old black coat in hopes of enough for a topper and put black flowers on my new hat
April 14, 1949
April 14, 1949: First Meal men got in two small calves gave one a bottle of milk with sugar his first meal before mother claimed him
Why Poetry Matters Now More Than Ever
Today’s poem, below, is from an otherwise ordinary day in Hattie’s life that hints at her ability to attend to and appreciate details, the diversity of farm activities, and, most poignant to me, her regret at having talked too much. (Just a reminder that in April I am posting a poem a day as part …