On opening a long unopened book,
What dank whiff rises from the parting pages,
What genie is released, what dark spell broken,
As if some warm breath trapped inside for ages
Were by a daylight glance set free?
Your father’s hand has jotted in the margins
Its own blunt text of what must be
Lecture notes, and planted his place marker
Like a flag among the “Dry Salvages”
A college “schedule card,” a blank
Grid for weekly classes, and on the back”
O fees and late fees time alone assuages”
We know the longhand’s labored look
A child’s, but why that child would scrawl
A phrase so apt for now is beyond recall:
On opening a long unopened book.
Last Call for Submissions to the First Things Poetry Prize
The third annual First Things Poetry Prize is open for submissions until June 30. James Matthew Wilson is this year’s outside…
Jonathan Swift’s Savage Indignation
Miranda: “O wonder! . . . / O brave new world / That has such people in’t!”Prospero:…
Suffering Bereft of Despair
One of the most moving portraits of human faith and endurance I know spilled from the quill…