Elizabeth Bishop

bishopThis narrative poem by Elizabeth Bishop seems so plainly written, yet I think it’s pretty extraordinary.

In the Waiting Room

In Worcester, Massachusetts,
I went with Aunt Consuelo
to keep her dentist’s appointment
and sat and waited for her
in the dentist’s waiting room.
It was winter. It got dark
early. The waiting room
was full of grown-up people, Continue reading “Elizabeth Bishop”