I used to hate reading poetry I didn't write. Sounds pretentious. Ok it is pretentious. But I don't anymore. Actually, I've found several authors I prefer to me; Billy Collins, Ted Kooser, W.S. Merwin, Franz Wright, and Kay Ryan to name a few. Kay Ryan's new collection came out last month and I was the first to check it out from my local library... how nerdy am I? Turns out, it was really good. Not just normal good, where every tenth or so poems can be both started and finished... I find myself finishing almost every page, each containing almost exactly one poem. This one is called "Age" and I think it's one of my favorites, although it's hard to tell, there's at least one thing great about almost all of them.
As some people age
they kinden.
The apertures
of their eyes widen.
I do not think they weaken;
I think something weak strengthens
until they are more and more it,
like letting in heaven.
But other people are
mussels or clams, frightened.
Steam or knife blades mean open.
They hear heaven, they think boiled or broken.
I'm not sure if Ryan is a religious person, but the ideas of "something weak strengthens" and "letting in heaven" are, I think, the gospel in two beautifully crafted lines.
