Poetry Horoscopes, 5.7.21Aries: “The Animals,” Josephine JacobsenTo the sleeper, alone,

Poetry Horoscopes, 5.7.21Aries: “The Animals,” Josephine JacobsenTo the sleeper, alone, the animals came and shone,   The darkness whirled but silent shone the animals.   Just before dawn the dove flew out of the darkFlying with green in her beak; the dove also had come.Taurus: “Ovid in Tears,” Jack GilberLove is like a garden in the heart, he said.They asked him what he meant by garden.He explained about gardens. “In the cities,”he said, “there are places walled off where colorand decorum are magnified into a civilization.Like a beautiful woman,” he said…Two rounds later he was crying.Gemini: “In her mostly white town, an hour from Rocky Mountain National Park, a black poet considers centuries of protests against racialized violence,” Camille T. DungyEvery year,snow erasesthe highest road.We must start nearthe bottom andplow toward eachother again.Cancer: “Fire-Flowers,” Emily Pauline JohnsonAnd only to the heart that knows of grief,  Of desolating fire, of human pain,There comes some purifying sweet belief, Some fellow-feeling beautiful, if brief.  And life revives, and blossoms once again.Leo: “It’s Important I Remember that the Moral Arc of the Universe Bends—” Cortney Lamar Charlestonlike an everyday egg in hopes whatever golden lightresides inside shines through, throughs the crimson tidefor the rest of time so the tide will, mercifully, recede.Virgo: “Freedom,” Langston HughesFreedom will not comeToday, this year            Nor everThrough compromise and fear.Libra: “[love is more thicker than forget],” e.e. cummingslove is less always than to winless never than aliveless bigger than the least beginless littler than forgiveScorpio: “In Perpetual Spring,” Amy GerstlerEven the prick of the thistle,   queen of the weeds, revives   your secret beliefin perpetual spring,your faith that for every hurt   there is a leaf to cure it.Sagittarius: “What Work Is,” Philip LevineWorks eight hours a night so he can singWagner, the opera you hate most,the worst music ever invented.How long has it been since you told himyou loved him, held his wide shoulders,opened your eyes wide and said those words,and maybe kissed his cheek?Capricorn: “Purple,” Adelia PradoI gallop after purple,a sad memory, a four o’clock flower.I round up love to turn me purple with passion,I who choose and am chosen.Aquarius: “Origin Story,” Leah Naomi Greenfor once, nothing at the fire’s steady flight, like a heron lifting in loud beats, our silent mouths open   as if to give it a tunnel.Pisces: “Poems,” Nikki GrimesI’ve found the real thing,the diamond,one of the priceless gemsmy pain produced.“There! There,” I say,“is a memory worth keeping.” -- source link

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