Poem-a-Day

The only daily poetry series publishing new work by today’s poets.

Poem-a-day

^{translated from the Turkish by}^{Nell Wright}

My mother dries figs
with her blue-veined hands.
My mother smiles at walnuts
as though time in the heart never started.

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Title	Author	Date
The Negro Soldiers	Roscoe C. Jamison
By Small and Small: Midnight to Four A.M. (audio only)	Jack Gilbert
The Old Orphan	Charles Simic
Blanket of Daffodils	Linda Nemec Foster
March Moon	Langston Hughes
Unfinished Poem	Shirley Kaufman
Who is it that says most? Which can say more (Sonnet 84)	William Shakespeare
From “Citizen,” V [Sometimes “I” is supposed to hold what is not there]	Claudia Rankine
Walking Back Up Depot Street	Minnie Bruce Pratt
A Valentine	Edgar Allan Poe