Jane Kenyon is my favorite poet. Below are two short reasons why, but you really should read Otherwise and Let Evening Come.

The Shirt

The shirt touches his neck

And smooths over his back.

It slides down his sides.

It even goes below his belt�

down into his pants.

Lucky shirt.

Biscuit

The dog has cleaned his bowl

and his reward is a biscuit,

which I put in his mouth

like a priest offering the host.

I can’t bear that trusting face!

He asks for bread, expects

bread, and I in my power

might have given him a stone.

4:31 p.m.