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Poetry


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LET SPRING BE SPRING
(In Memory of Marianne Moore)

Something waiting to be born,    
The oak tree folded in the acorn,
We might say, the felicity
Of potential: an embarrassment of riches
Takes a chance at life in ditches,
A miracle that’s hard to beat.
Squirrels never grow to what they eat
And acorns never penetrate concrete
On which I’ve heard them bounce on windy nights,
Landing loud as bottle caps
After the shortest and straightest of flights –
Without even the hint of a somersault.
Where you land is sometimes the wind’s fault.


Contents
November 15, 2010    |     Volume LXII, No. 21

Articles
  • In trying to prevent inflation and deflation, Ben Bernanke treads a perilous path.
  • Doing so would go a long way toward restoring federalism and the separation of powers.
  • A word against Clinton nostalgia.
  • An epidemic of building-squatting afflicts Amsterdam — and the liberal officialdom can scarcely muster a shrug.
  • Juan Williams’s real crime was to refuse to stick with his own kind.
Features
  • China’s toy currency is not what ails our economy, claims of self-interested U.S. politicians notwithstanding.
  • The War on Terror has not brought with it a disturbing expansion of executive power, or any expansion at all.
  • That originalism does not justify our civil-rights jurisprudence is no argument against originalism.
Books, Arts & Manners
Sections
The Long View  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  
Athwart  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  
Poetry  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .