Jane Kenyon
A poem by Jane Kenyon
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““By suppertime all that remains is the scent of balsam fir. If it's darkness we're having, let it be extravagant.””
Wild Geese
What the Living Do
Sorrow
Learn a Poem This Week (NYT Poetry Challenge)
Cartoon Physics, part 1
What Is the Measure
Let the Day Go
Sweet Darkness
Meditations in an Emergency
Poetry Unbound
Meditation at Lagunitas
How I Go to the Woods
