tony hoagland

It’s gray and rainy and chilly in DC today, the kind of day that calls for the following lunch: a hot cup of lentil soup, a few wheat crackers, and some seasonal springtime poetry. That’s what I’m having, anyway. This poem is one of my all-time favorites, and it appears in Tony Hoagland’s excellent and often quite funny collection What Narcissism Means to Me. A Color of the Sky by Tony Hoagland Windy today and I feel less than brilliant, driving over the hills from work. There are the dark parts on the road when you pass...

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