Stanley Kunitz' "The Round"

Today's poem is Stanley Kunitz' "The Round." Text below. Remember to rate and review the podcast wherever you listen to podcasts.Light splashed this morningon the shell-pink anemonesswaying on their tall stems;down blue-spiked veronicalight flowed in rivuletsover the humps of the honeybees;this morning I saw light kissthe silk of the rosesin their second flowering,my late bloomersflushed with their brandy.A curious gladness shook me.So I have shut the doors of my house,so I have trudged downstairs to my cell,so I am sitting in semi-darkhunched over my deskwith nothing for a viewto tempt mebut a bloated compost heap,steamy old stinkpile,under my window;and I pick my notebook upand I start to read aloudthe still-wet words I scribbledon the blotted page:"Light splashed . . ."I can scarcely wait till tomorrowwhen a new life begins for me,as it does each day,as it does each day. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit dailypoempod.substack.com/subscribe