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This happens to me too, Carol. It can be from poetry, a novel, memoir, song lyrics...so many things. Sometimes it deeply affects me and the next time I read it, it seems nice, but I'm left wondering what grabbed my heartstrings the first time--just a change in circumstance I guess.

The poem you shared speaks to me of the things that give our lives meaning and context, the things that mean little or nothing to someone else but are touchstones through the years that conjure up memories so clear you can almost touch them.

I'm reading through a devotional book during this Lenten season; I read today's portion immediately before turning to your post and had this very thing happen. Just a portion of the final sentence would not let me go until I had read it several times (May God birth in our hearts a song to carry us through the day,....). Even as I type it here, it's pull is less than it was 10 minutes ago, but at the time, it was like an invisible hand lightning quick pulling memories from the cubby holes of my mind that embodied that phrase and bringing the associated feelings back to me.

I used to subscribe to the Writers Almanac in my reader, so glad you shared this today.


Great poem and one which requires reading numerous times. It brings back memories of my childhood on a farm. Thanks for posting it.

Heidi Sue

thank you for sharing. i always read your posts first thing in the morning while i'm sipping my coffee. today's entry will stay with me all day.

Sharon Walworth

I'm a "writers almanac" regular, and that poem struck a special chord for me, too. But even better than the poem is that picture of Angie: it's been awhile since we had an "angie sighting"!!!!!


It's a really wonderful poem that speaks of home and longing and memory and it sounds like the Midwest.

Chris Oliveira

I miss Angie too, and all the funny and loving things she would say. I think the poem is wonderful. Go and eat some ice cream for Angie! 💕


Poem well worth repeating, and loving the Angie memory.... Hugs!

Barbara Casillas

When I was growing up in 50's Los Angeles, my parents bought a house in a new tract of homes. There were no homes beyond it, just orange groves and horses, and cows that belonged to a little dairy that sold "staples." All of that is gone now, replaced by endless streets of tract homes. I loved the line in the poem, "thank you for the photographs of where the chicken coop once stood." I think it speaks to us not only of places we've left, but places that exist now only in our memories. Thanks for sharing.


is that a sheridan's container being carried home on Mom's walker?
love seeing her
and the writer's almanac poem
and your blog


Beautiful poem...I'm missing things from home this morning. Lovely photos, especially the one of the sparkling Angie. Nice with my morning cup.


Lovely.....thank goodness for memories and photos!!!


Nice. Yes, love the "Almanac." Ooh, and your sweet mama.


"Please promise I'm missing the right things" brought tears to my eyes. Marvelous poem.


I love this poem. Thank you for sharing it. Her work reminds me a lot of Ted Kooser's.

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