American Life in Poetry

There is a type of poem, the Found Poem, that records an author’s discovery of the beauty that occasionally occurs in the everyday discourse of others.

Such a poem might be words scrawled on a wadded scrap of paper, or buried in the classified ads, or on a billboard. The poet makes it his or her poem by holding it up for us to look at.

Here the Washington, D.C., poet Joshua Weiner directs us to the poetry in a letter written not by him, but to him.

Found Letter

What makes for a happier life, Josh, comes to this:

Gifts freely given, that you never earned;

Open affection with your wife and kids;

Clear pipes in winter, in summer screens that fit;

Few days in court, with little consequence;

A quiet mind, a strong body, short hours

In the office; close friends who speak the truth;

Good food, cooked simply; a memory that’s rich

Enough to build the future with; a bed

In which to love, read, dream, and re-imagine love;

A warm, dry field for laying down in sleep,

And sleep to trim the long night coming;

Knowledge of who you are, the wish to be

None other; freedom to forget the time;

To know the soul exceeds where it’s confined

Yet does not seek the terms of its release,

Like a child’s kite catching at the wind

That flies because the hand holds tight the line.