By Ted Kooser
Publish yr note: First released January 1st 2004
Winner of the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for Poetry
"Kooser records the dignities, conduct and small griefs of way of life, our starvation for connection, our fight to discover balance."—Poetry
"[Kooser] brushes poems over traditional gadgets, revealing metaphysical subject matters that manner an investigator dusts for fingerprints. His language is so managed and convincing that one can't support yet believe major truths in the back of his lines." —The Philadelphia Inquirer
"Delights & Shadows increases the voice of the poet above every thing else. every one brief, shiny poem at the web page reads as though it have been being spoken aloud. information about cemeteries, dictionaries, a doctor's ready room, and a jar of buttons bristle with sound and wisdom. Kooser's skill to exploit short lyrics to compose a song of discovery and regeneration makes his paintings radiant and consuming." —Bloomsbury Review
[bTed Kooser[/b] is a grasp of metaphor, a poet who deftly connects disparate parts of the realm and communicates with absolute precision. Critics name him a "haiku-like imagist" and his poems were in comparison to Chekov's brief tales. In Delights and Shadows, Kooser attracts proposal from the ignored information of way of life. Quotidian items like a pegboard, creamed corn and a forgotten salesman's trophy aid display the striking in what ahead of was once a simply traditional world.
Ted Kooser is the writer of 8 collections of poems and a prose memoir. He lives on a small farm in rural Nebraska.
Pulitzer Prize for Poetry (2005)
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Additional resources for Delights & Shadows
Sure, that was once I. seventy one And that used to be I you noticed that night earlier than darkish, in a weedy cemetery west of Staplehurst, down on one knee as though attempting to make out the identify on a stone, a few lonely previous guy, you concept, come there to pity himself within the trustworthy unhappiness of grass between graves, yet that used to be now not so. as a substitute I had present in its excellent internet a good-looking black and yellow spider pumping its legs to aim to shake my footing as though I have been a present, a massive moth that it may possibly snare and devour. certain, that was once I. seventy two Screech Owl All evening every one reedy whinny from a chook no higher than a middle flies out of a tall black pine and, in a breath, is taken away through the celebrities. but, with small wish from the guts of darkness it calls out many times. seventy three A Spiral laptop the intense twine rolls like a porpoise out and in of the calm blue sea of the canopy, or maybe like a sleeper twisting out and in of his goals, for it might carry a checklist of desires when you desired to purchase it for that, although it kind of feels to be intended for extra critical paintings, with its college-ruled traces and its conceal that states in emphatic white letters, five topic laptop. it sort of feels part of getting older isn't any longer to have 5 topics, each one tough an equivalent proportion of realization, set aside by way of brown cardboard dividers, yet as an alternative to face in a drugstore and grasp directly to one topic a bit too lengthy, like this laptop you weigh on your fingers, passing your palms over its surfaces as though it have been a few type of ask yourself. seventy four The Early chicken nonetheless darkish, and raining demanding on a chilly may well morning and but the early chicken is obtainable chirping, chirping its sweet-sour wooden-pulley notes, happy, it'll look, to take delivery of paintings, hauling the heavy bucket of sunrise up from the darkness, notice over observe, and letting us drink. seventy five Starlight All evening, this delicate rain from the far away previous. No ask yourself I occasionally waken as a baby. seventy six On the line by way of the toe of my boot, a pebble of quartz, one drop of the earth’s milk, soiled and chilly. I held it to the sunshine and will virtually see via it into the grand clarification. placed it again, whatever instructed me, positioned it again and continue jogging. seventy seven A Washing of palms She grew to become at the faucet and a silver braid unraveled over her hands. She cupped them, weighing that tassel, first in a single hand after which the opposite, then pinched during the threads as though trying to find whatever, might be an entangled cocklebur of water, or the seed of a lake. A time or she took the tassel in either palms, squeezed it right into a knot, wrung out the chilly and the sunshine, after which, on the finish, pulled down tough on it two times, as though the water have been a rope and she or he was once ringing a bell to name me, brilliant jewelry, even though i used to be there. seventy eight After Years this present day, from a distance, I observed you strolling away, and with no sound the glittering face of a glacier slid into the ocean. An old oak fell within the Cumberlands, retaining just a handful of leaves, and an outdated lady scattering corn to her chickens appeared up for an speedy. on the different aspect of the galaxy, a celebrity thirty-five instances the scale of our personal solar exploded and vanished, leaving a small eco-friendly spot at the astronomer’s retina as he stood within the nice open dome of my middle with out one to inform.