Introduction by Ted Kooser: In this poem by New York poet Martin Walls, a common insect is described and made vivid for us through a number of fresh and engaging comparisons. Thus an ordinary insect becomes something remarkable and memorable.

Cicadas at the End of Summer

Whine as though a pine tree is bowing a broken violin,

As though a bandsaw cleaves a thousand thin sheets of

            titanium;

They chime like freight wheels on a Norfolk Southern

slowing into town.

But all you ever see is the silence.

Husks, glued to the underside of maple leaves.

With their nineteen fifties Bakelite lines they’d do

            just as well hanging from the ceiling of a space

            museum—

What cicadas leave behind is a kind of crystallized memory;

The stubborn detail of, the shape around a life turned

The color of forgotten things: a cold broth of tea & milk

            in the bottom of a mug.

Or skin on an old tin of varnish you have to lift with

            lineman’s pliers.

A fly paper that hung thirty years in Bird Cooper’s pantry

in Brighton.

Reprinted from “Small Human Detail in Care of National Trust,” New Issues Press, Western Michigan University, 2000, by permission of the author. Poem copyright © by Martin Walls, a 2005 Wittner Bynner Fellow of the Library of Congress. His latest collection “Commonwealth” is available from March Street Press. This weekly column is supported by The Poetry Foundation, The Library of Congress and the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. American Life in Poetry ©2005 The Poetry Foundation Contact: alp@poetryfoundation.org  This column does not accept unsolicited poetry.

Today is Labor Day in the United States, a day “dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers.” I’ll be spending it caring for my horse, checking in on a vacationing friend’s cats, making a birthday cake for my son, and puttering around the house doing chores that make our lives run smoothly and happily. My husband is grilling chicken and shrimp, my mother-in-law is visiting, and my son will be stopping by later to eat that cake (and probably do some laundry). We spent the first two days of this three-day weekend painting our bathroom and cleaning up after Hurricane Hermine (no damage, just a lot of debris in the yard). This hasn’t been a textbook example of a “relaxing” weekend, but it has been one full of family, food, and many of the simple pleasures that bring me deep satisfaction.

Whatever you’re doing today, I hope it brings you joy!

“To age gracefully is to experience fully each day and season. When we have truly lived our lives, we don’t want to live them again. It’s the life that was not lived that we regret.”

—Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and David Kessler, Life Lessons: Two Experts on Death and Dying Teach Us About the Mysteries of Life and Living

Happy birthday to two of my favorite people: my son, and my father-in-law. They both are great examples of living life fully.

The internet has been humming with interesting stuff lately, and I don’t mean the latest gossipy tidbit about a celebrity or political candidate. I’d rather spend my time being inspired or taught (or looking at funny animal pictures).  Here are a few of my favorite recent discoveries. Enjoy!

I spent too much time watching the Olympics over the past couple of weeks. I loved the equestrian events, of course, but I also enjoyed seeing sports I never watch: water polo, table tennis, volleyball (which I loved playing in high school and college) and track events. There’s something inspiring about watching people achieve their dreams after hard work and sacrifice. I was also touched by this story, about the 10 athletes who are refugees, but still have the drive and desire to compete.

Patience is an important quality to cultivate, but few of us had someone actually teach us how to be patient? I found this post on Raptitude incredibly helpful. Remember, “Patience is really nothing more than the willingness to live life at the speed at which it actually happens.” 

Simple but effective ideas from Sandra Pawula in “9 Ways to Find Serenity in a World Gone Mad.” I could not function without #8.

“11 Ways to Be Happy Right Now” combines simple physical acts (“eat a piece of quality dark chocolate”) to more in-depth experiences (“train your mind).

Check out these “16 Quotes That Show Us Life From a Different Perspective.” My favorite: “Growth is painful. Change is painful. But in the end, nothing is as painful as staying stuck somewhere you do not belong. It’s always better to be exhausted from meaningful work than to be tired of doing nothing.”

How happy are you? Take a quiz to assess your well-being, and learn more about how to thrive here.

Loved the takeaway message from Marie Forleo’s Oprah Supersoul Session: “Everything is ‘figureoutable.’”

Have you made any internet discoveries lately?

Photo courtesy sailormn34

Introduction by Ted Kooser: I’ve lived all my life on the plains, where no body of water is more than a few feet deep, and even at that shallow depth I’m afraid of it. Here Sam Green, who lives on an island north of Seattle, takes us down into some really deep, dark water.

Night Dive

Down here, no light but what we carry with us.

Everywhere we point our hands we scrawl

color: bulging eyes, spines, teeth or clinging tentacles.

At negative buoyancy, when heavy hands

seem to grasp & pull us down, we let them,

we don’t inflate our vests, but let the scrubbed cheeks

of rocks slide past in amniotic calm.

At sixty feet we douse our lights, cemented

by the weight of the dark, of water, the grip

of the sea’s absolute silence. Our groping

hands brush the open mouths of anemones,

which shower us in particles of phosphor

radiant as halos. As in meditation,

or in deepest prayer,

there is no knowing what we will see.