“The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop I caught a tremendous fish and held him beside the boat half out of water, with my hook fast in a corner of his mouth. He didn’t fight. He hadn’t fought at all. He hung a grunting weight, battered and… Read More
“One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop The art of losing isn’t hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.… Read More
From “Crusoe in England” by Elizabeth Bishop.
“Florida” by Elizabeth Bishop— The state with the prettiest name, the state that floats in brackish water, held together by mangrave roots that bear while living oysters in clusters, and when dead strew white swamps with skeletons, dotted as if bombarded, with green hummocks like… Read More