My friend Joseph derided the book because it was too elementary. It was for Comm I.
Yet it was my first real introduction to poetry. From it I read Shakespeare, Donne, Keats and Thomas under the trees beside the UP lagoon. I read them out loud, risking looking like a fool and being laughed at by the lovers cavorting nearby.
From it I read Marvell to my coy mistress, my future wife. From it I learned how to feel and intuit, not explain and understand, the meaning of words beautifully strung together. From it I saw how words became art.
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