Howard Nemerov

(29 February 1920 – 5 July 1991 / New York City, New York)

Howard Nemerov Poems

1. A Day On The Big Branch 5/3/2012
2. A Life 1/3/2003
3. A Primer Of The Daily Round 5/3/2012
4. A Spell Before Winter 1/3/2003
5. Amateurs Of Heaven 1/3/2003
6. Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry 1/3/2003
7. Casting 1/3/2003
8. Found Poem 5/3/2012
9. Fugue 1/3/2003
10. Gyroscope 1/3/2003
11. I Only Am Escaped Alone To Tell Thee 6/30/2003
12. Insomnia I 1/3/2003
13. Kicks 1/13/2003
14. Learning By Doing 1/3/2003
15. Learning The Trees 1/3/2003
16. Life Cycle Of Common Man 5/3/2012
17. Lion & Honeycomb 5/3/2012
18. Magnitudes 5/3/2012
19. Money 4/15/2010
20. On An Occasion Of National Mourning 5/3/2012
21. Pockets 5/3/2012
22. Poetics 1/3/2003
23. September, The First Day Of School 1/13/2003
24. Storm Windows 1/3/2003
25. Style 1/3/2003
26. The Author To His Body On Their Fifteenth Birthday, 29 Ii 80 5/3/2012
27. The Beautiful Lawn Sprinkler 1/13/2003
28. The Blue Swallows 1/3/2003
29. The Brief Journey West 4/15/2010
30. The Consent 5/3/2012
31. The Dependencies 1/3/2003
32. The Goose Fish 1/3/2003
33. The Host, He Says That All Is Well 4/15/2010
34. The Icehouse In Summer 4/15/2010
35. The Lobster 1/3/2003
36. The Makers 1/3/2003
37. The Murder Of William Remington 4/15/2010
38. The Painter Dreaming In The Scholar’s House 5/3/2012
39. The Town Dump 5/3/2012
40. The Vacuum 4/15/2010
Best Poem of Howard Nemerov

Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry

Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.

There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.

Read the full of Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry

The Blue Swallows

Across the millstream below the bridge
Seven blue swallows divide the air
In shapes invisible and evanescent,
Kaleidoscopic beyond the mind’s
Or memory’s power to keep them there.

“History is where tensions were,”
“Form is the diagram of forces.”
Thus, helplessly, there on the bridge,

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