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Ted Kooser
Slap of the screen door, flat knock
of my grandmother's boxy black shoes
on the wooden stoop, the hush and sweep
of her knob-kneed, cotton-aproned stride
out to the edge and then, toed in
with a furious twist and heave,
a bridge that leaps from her hot red hands
and hangs there shining for fifty years
over the mystified chickens,
over the swaying nettles, the ragweed,
the clay slope down to the creek,
over the redwing blackbirds in the tops
of the willows, a glorious rainbow
with an empty dishpan swinging at one end.
Library Staff
Why I chose this poem: 
I chose this poem because I love the imagery of the poet's grandmother, caught in one moment of time. The beauty of dishwater - caught in a rainbow arc. Quiet sounds of nature all around. A moment that is caught for all-time. And the importance of noticing those beautiful moments within each of our days.
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