Evening Poetry, May 29

Every Day

by Naomi Shihab Nye

My hundred-year-old next-door neighbor told me:

every day is a good day if you have it.

I had to think about that a minute.

She said, Every day is a present

someone left at your birthday place at the table.

Trust me! It may not feel like that

but it’s true. When you’re my age

you’ll know. Twelve is a treasure.

And it’s up to you

to unwrap the package gently,

lift out the gleaming hours

wrapped in tissue,

don’t miss the bottom of the box.

You can find this A Maze Me: Poems for Girls.

Evening Poetry, May 8

People I Admire

by Naomi Shihab Nye

poke their shovels into the dirt.

Whatever they turn over interests them,

not just what they plant.

If there are roots or worms,

if the soil is darker, or mottled,

maybe the cap of an old bottle,

a snail, an ancient tunnel

left by a burrowing mole.

They know there is plenty of ground.

Every place has a warm old name.

The plumed grasses bend backwards

in the breeze, their job in life,

and they are proud of it.

You can find this poem in A Maze Me: Poems for Girls.