Kay Day

 This blog is not going to let Kay Ryan's birthday pass unmarked. Incredibly, she is 76 today – long may she live and write yet. Here, again, is the first poem of hers I posted (back in 2010) – one that I think displays her unique gift perfectly: wise, succinct, beautifully crafted and utterly distinctive...

Carrying a Ladder

We are always

really carrying

a ladder, but it’s

invisible. We

only know

something’s

the matter:

something precious

crashes; easy doors

prove impassable.

Or, in the body,

there’s too much

swing or off-

center gravity.

And, in the mind,

a drunken capacity,

access to out-of-range

apples. As though

one had a way to climb

out of the damage

and apology.