I don't think of myself as someone who likes poetry. I don't usually seek poems. I've been known to run from them on occasion. At a fast gallop.
I might have taken a book of poetry out of the library once or twice, Erica Jong comes to mind. But I don't think I've ever read more than a few lines before I put the book down and then forgot where I put it and then it was time to take it back to the library.
I do, however, love to listen to The Writer's Almanacwith Garrison Keillor. I catch it some mornings when I'm getting dressed for work. Often hoping the timing of the blow drying of my hair will not coincide with Garrison's reading of his selected poem of the day.
Below is one such poem I managed to catch.
This poem has stuck with me. Some mornings it is consoling. Some mornings it saves my marriage, maybe.