Poetry Corner Monday

 You're probably rolling your eyes at my inclusion of yet another Ted Kooser poem, but this man writes perfection. Truly.

A Letter

By Ted Kooser

I have tried a dozen ways

to say those things

and have failed: how the moon 

with its bruises

climbs branch over branch

through the empty tree;

how the cool November dusk,

like a wind, has blown

these old gray houses up

against the darkness;

and what these things

have come to mean to me

without you. I raked the yard

this morning, and it rained

this afternoon. Tonight,

along the shiny street,

the bags of leaves--

wet-shouldered

but warm in their skins--

are huddled together, close

so close to life.