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Best Famous Ted Kooser Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Ted Kooser poems. This is a select list of the best famous Ted Kooser poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Ted Kooser poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of ted kooser poems.

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by Ted Kooser |

Selecting A Reader

 First, I would have her be beautiful,
and walking carefully up on my poetry
at the loneliest moment of an afternoon,
her hair still damp at the neck
from washing it.
She should be wearing a raincoat, an old one, dirty from not having money enough for the cleaners.
She will take out her glasses, and there in the bookstore, she will thumb over my poems, then put the book back up on its shelf.
She will say to herself, "For that kind of money, I can get my raincoat cleaned.
" And she will.


by Ted Kooser |

In January

 Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.
The bigger the window, the more it trembles.


by Ted Kooser |

After Years

 Today, from a distance, I saw you
walking away, and without a sound
the glittering face of a glacier
slid into the sea.
An ancient oak fell in the Cumberlands, holding only a handful of leaves, and an old woman scattering corn to her chickens looked up for an instant.
At the other side of the galaxy, a star thirty-five times the size of our own sun exploded and vanished, leaving a small green spot on the astronomer's retina as he stood on the great open dome of my heart with no one to tell.


by Ted Kooser |

A Birthday Poem

 Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing, feasting on every green moment till darkness calls, and with the others I walk away into the night, swinging the little tin bell of my name.