The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

The Writer's Almanac with Garrison KeillorThe Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

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A poem each day, plus literary and historical notes from this day in historyMore from The Writer's Almanac with Garrison KeillorThe Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor »

Most Recent Episodes

Wincing at the Beautiful by Paul Hostovsky | Sunday, August 28, 2016 | The Writer's Almana...

So my friend Phil is telling me how he can't get a date how he loves women and how they're always giving him looks so I ask him what kind of looks so he winces at the beautiful braless young woman passing by at that particular propitious moment giving her a look of such longing... Read more »

Wincing at the Beautiful by Paul Hostovsky | Sunday, August 28, 2016 | The Writer's Almana...

The Splits by Connie Wanek | Saturday, August 27, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

The world of my youth was divided into girls who could and girls who couldn't slide casually to the floor, one leg aft and one fore, while their faces retained a sprightly cheer. All summer, all year they stretched the critical tendons, descending in increments the way the willful enter a frigid lake, their arms... Read more »

The Splits by Connie Wanek | Saturday, August 27, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

Sewing by Sue Ellen Thompson | Friday, August 26, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

The night before my older sister's wedding, my mother and I sat up late hand-stitching a little cloud of netting to the brim of each bridesmaid's hat To be alone with her was so rare I couldn't think of what I had to say. We worked in silence beneath the chandelier until it was almost... Read more »

Sewing by Sue Ellen Thompson | Friday, August 26, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

Ars Poetica II by Charles Wright | Thursday, August 25, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with G...

I find, after all these years, I am a believer— I believe what the thunder and lightning have to say; I believe that dreams are real, and that death has two reprisals; I believe that dead leaves and black water fill my heart. I shall die like a cloud, beautiful, white, full of nothingness. The... Read more »

Ars Poetica II by Charles Wright | Thursday, August 25, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with G...

Young Couple at Mass by Albert Garcia | Tuesday, August 23, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac wi...

At Mass the just-married couple hold hands in the pew. New to the parish, they sit in front of an elderly pair, soapy scent of a 40-year marriage, and behind a family whose eight-year-old leans under the seats to stare at the many ankles and shoes. They feel noticeable, awkward— familiar amid the statue of... Read more »

Young Couple at Mass by Albert Garcia | Tuesday, August 23, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac wi...

The Sunday News by Louis Simpson | Monday, August 22, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Gar...

I didn't stay for the closing hymns and prayers. I felt out of sorts, so I left. Someone was before me at the door: a child, gazing at a spot on her wrist. She said, "Can you help me?" "What is it?" "A ladybug," she said. So I opened the door, and she said, "It... Read more »

The Sunday News by Louis Simpson | Monday, August 22, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Gar...

The Sunday News by Dana Gioia | Sunday, August 21, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

Looking for something in the Sunday paper, I flipped by accident to Local Weddings, Yet missed the photograph until I saw Your name among the headings. And there you were, looking almost unchanged, Your hair still long, though now long out of style, And you still wore that stiff, ironic look That was your smile.... Read more »

The Sunday News by Dana Gioia | Sunday, August 21, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

I Remember by Anne Sexton | Saturday, August 20, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

By the first of August the invisible beetles began to snore and the grass was as tough as hemp and was no color—no more than the sand was a color and we had worn our bare feet bare since the twentieth of June and there were times we forgot to wind up your alarm clock... Read more »

I Remember by Anne Sexton | Saturday, August 20, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garrison Keillor

Favorite Uncle by Wendy Mnookin | Friday, August 19, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garr...

Our favorite uncle, Stanley, the youngest of five brothers and the most handsome, used to play a game with my sister and me, hiding a nickel and making us choose which hand, clenched behind his back, held the prize. The two of us danced from one foot to the other, giddy with wanting— the nickel,... Read more »

Favorite Uncle by Wendy Mnookin | Friday, August 19, 2016 | The Writer's Almanac with Garr...

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