Writer's Almanac

I get the Writer's Almanac every morning in my Gmail inbox. It's fairly exciting, I suppose - the promise of the poem for Wednesday, August 29 never fails to excite the heart. And though the poems themselves do not always have the richness, subtlety or beauty that I seek from poetry, I read the email diligently, hoping to learn something about poetry.

And today this gem arrived. Read it slowly, and out loud, and then again. I love how stark it is, how blunt. And I love the phrase, "impatient virgin." You can find the Writer's Almanac or subscribe here.

A Difference of Fifty-Three Years

by Noel Peattie

Here is a magazine called Seventeen.
It comes out on the stands every month.
The girl on each cover is welcome
as cherry pie; she's tubbed, pure,
her hair is up, or ribboned.
Her life is all dresses,
parties, and little pink wishes.
She says to the world, Oh hurry,
hurry up, please, and it does.

Here is a man about seventy.
Why isn't there a journal called Seventy?
Because he isn't as welcome;
because nobody wants to be like him.
He says to the world, Slow down;
my flat feet can't keep up with you.
He whispers, I'm still alive.

But it doesn't slow down, the world.
It keeps on hurrying; for, see there,
an impatient virgin is waiting.

(Every day, an old man is buried).
Every month, there's another young girl.

Much to tell, friends. My first day as an intern, my first day of policy class... I will write tonight. For now, enjoy the poem.

Love,

Hilary