A weekly* email newsletter about literature, art, trail running or hiking or riding or camping or walking or just sitting in the Utah mountains or the desert of the Colorado Plateau, and a good deal of poetry. luckywords.substack.com
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Howdy! Another audio-first production, this time a sonnet by the fabulous 20th century poet Edna St. Vincent Millay. This one was recorded on a hike up Provo Canyon (yes, again—hey, it’s just up the street and, frankly, it’s a pretty great canyon) shortly before we finally (!) got some snow. What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head…
Yes, yes it’s very late (again!). I apologize. ON PEACE When Elisabeth finally (finally!) got pregnant, she had to deal with the discomforts of carrying a baby all the while her husband was struck mute. She said that her “reproach” was taken away, but it is hard to imagine that it was a very pleasant time. Meanwhile, her young unmarried cousin, Mary, was also pregnant. More unpleasantness. Mary…
So Advent started last Sunday. I had intended to get this out before then, but then things happened, and I didn’t get it out there. My apologies. About Advent Advent is the season leading up to Christmas, starting the fourth Sunday before. Christmas, the twelve days of it, begins on Christmas Day. Right now, we are in the middle of Advent. For many Christians, they celebrate every Sunday of Advent…
I recorded this while sitting on the shady bank of the Provo River, shoes off and feet in the water. It was over 90º outside, and my spot was one of the best places I can imagine along the entire Wasatch Front today. Text of poem This is the second sonnet in Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Renascence and Other Poems , published in 1917. Time does not bring relief; you all have lied Who told me time…
Recorded on a lovely afternoon in early June 2025, up on Cascade mountain, a couple thousand feet above my house. In the recording, I promised a photo. Here it is: The recording might be a bit quiet, and I apologize about that. If it’s annoying to you, just send me a note so that I’ll be motivated to find a better solution next time. Text of poems Sonnet 4 Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend…
Recorded on site and in one take on the banks of the Provo River, May 2025. Today’s poem is by Susan Marsh who is in her own words a “writer, poet, artist” based in Wyoming. That career description is one I aspire to, though, of course I’d choose Utah. The poem was published in 2022. Text of poem “One Patch of Quilt” by Susan Marsh We know about the way they treat the chickens But on a budget, buy…
In the spirit of getting more prescriptive, this is the first of an intermittent and irregular series about how and why of poetry. Today: the portability of poetry, illustrated with a classic by Carl Sandburg, “Why Did the Children Put Beans in Their Ears?” ## Text of poem “Why Did the Children Put Beans in Their Ears?” by Carl Sandburg "Why did the children put beans in their ears when the one…
Recorded live on the La Virkin Creek Trail in Kolob Canyon, Zion National Park, May 2025. You’ll hear the wind noise pretty prominently at times, and I’m sorry if it annoys you. Not sorry enough to do anything about it, because I personally find it kind of charming. There are a bunch of photos you can see if you visit the website (luckywords.net) that don’t show up in podcast notes. ## Text of…
Text of poem Look in thy glass and tell the face thou viewest, Now is the time that face should form another, Whose fresh repair if now thou not renewest, Thou dost beguile the world, unbless some mother. For where is she so fair whose uneared womb Disdains the tillage of thy husbandry? Or who is he so fond will be the tomb Of his self-love, to stop posterity? Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she…
Recorded on site next to the river, up Provo Canyon in the second week of April 2025. As I was talking, the sun came from behind the mountain on the east and I went from slightly chilly to filled with glorious light. It was a good day. Text of Poem Here is is: “Calmly We Walk through This April’s Day” by Delmore Schwartz Calmly we walk through this April’s day, Metropolitan poetry here and there,…
This was recorded two weeks ago, on a day that I woke up and it was dumping snow. I went up Rock Canyon, which was just gorgeous. Now, just twelve days later, it’s warm and delightful. Sorry about the sound quality, too. I was not planning to record, and this was just me and my phone. Text of poem William Shakespeare’s sonnet 2, “When forty winters shall besiege thy brow” When forty winters shall…
Text of poem “Spring” by Edna St. Vincent Millay To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under the ground…
For the past few years, I’ve recorded a series of podcasts every April for National Poetry Month. It’s 2025, and I’m doing it again. Woohoo! The original goal was to do a new poem every day: 30 poems over the course of the month. That is always too much work: finding the poems, doing some research, recording (on site outdoors!), editing, and posting. A daily podcast, even just a little ten minute…
It’s April again, which means it’s National Poetry Month! The podcast is back, again. My ambitions are much more modest this year, and also moving in different directions. The excitement, for me at least is that I’m going to be adding in video to the mix. I’ve been learning a lot, and the curve is steep. But it’s been rewarding to become acquainted with an entirely new set of skills. For today,…
Recorded live on location at... my backyard. It was a lovely morning, and so I decided to read a poem. I didn't mention it in the recording because, well because I didn't think about it. I was thinking about Ryan's great poem. And so I recorded a nice short podcast about it. I love this poem. It's one that I've copied out, longhand, in my own notebook that I'm carrying around right now. It's nice…
Recorded on West Mountain, just west of Spanish Fork, Utah. It was blustery and cold, but kind of weirdly beautiful regardless. Beautiful in its desolate ugliness, I guess. The painting I mentioned is indeed by Francisco Goya, but I got the name of the painting wrong. It is "Saturn Eating His Children" which you can see and read about [here]( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saturn_Devouring_His_Son…
Recorded by the shore of Utah Lake on a windy but pleasant day, though not as pleasant as what Wordsworth described what with his green bower and all. My favorite part of this recording is the sounds of the killdeer, which I wish were louder, but of course every time I got close they decided to fly away. #### TEXT OF POEM "Lines Written in Early Spring" by William Wordsworth I heard a thousand…
Recorded on the Watchman Overlook in Zion National Park. There are always too may people at Zion, but I found a spot where I could have some quiet privacy and record a poem. Unfortunately, technology was conspiring against me, and so this sounds kinda lousy. Sorry. Also, I referred to the trail as "The Watchman" but what I meant was the Watchman _Overlook_: a much less ambitious undertaking. This…
Recorded in a tiny little canyon that I never learned the name for, but it was peaceful and quiet. Everyone should have a peaceful, quiet little place to read a poem every now and again. As I mention in the commentary, this is interesting because it's simultaneously modern -- I mean, it's talking about an event in the 20th century! -- but also has something older about it. All of Thomas Hardy…
Recorded sitting next to some trickling water just outside the mouth of Hellhole Canyon, in Ivins, Utah. In part, my analysis was a chance for me to talk a little about my process in reading a poem—the messy stuff that gets cut out in my editing. Because not only do I typically record things in a single take and live on a hike, I also don't use any notes or any script. I have, of course, read and…
A reading and short analysis of Jim Harrison's poem, recorded live in [Hellhole canyon]( https://hikestgeorge.com/hiking-trails/hellhole-canyon/ ), outside St. George, Utah. #### TEXT OF POEM "I Believe" by Jim Harrison, from his book [_In Search of Small Gods_]( https://www.amazon.com/Search-Small-Gods-Jim-Harrison/dp/1556593198 ) I believe in steep drop-offs, the thunderstorm across the lake in…
Three poems (more than two!) poems by E. E. Cummings recorded on the shore of the Virgin River in northern Arizona, at the edge of the Mojave Desert. I was sitting on a big, jutting chunk of red sandstone, surrounded by Joshua trees and cacti. These three poems are of varying levels of difficulty, but for today, the only one that gets the double treatment is "sweet spring is your." One thing I…
Recorded on site at the tiny, old cemetery in Charleston, Utah. Some of my ancestors are buried there, which makes it relevant for me at least, on this particular day. You can find some interesting commentary about what Kipling might have been thinking about while composing this poem on [the Kipling Society page about this poem]( https://www.kiplingsociety.co.uk/readers-guide/rg_nativity1.htm ).…
Recorded live and on site right outside Utah Lake State Park, which means that there are also airplanes flying and birds chirping and other people walking. I have edited out the other people walking, but the rest of it is all here. [Mark Gibbons]( https://gibbonspoetry.com/ ) is the Montana Poet Laureate for 2021-2023, and I hope he doesn't mind that I used this poem... #### TEXT OF POEM "My Life…
Five or six years ago, I read this poem here on Lucky Words. This is a new recording—recorded, edited, and uploaded on Good Friday 2023—looking at the best Good Friday poem ever written. Who am I kidding? Every poem by John Donne is the best ever written. I hope that you have (or had) a lovely Easter, filled with family, chocolate, poetry, and Jesus Christ. #### TEXT OF POEM Let man's soul be a…
Redorded on location on the trail to Corona Arch outside Moab, Utah, in May of 2022. Some members of my family were with me, and I recorded in snatches while we were hiking—which is why there is some heckling going on. I tried to edit most of it out, but, you know... I have a soft spot for Dylan Thomas, but I don't know why. There's something about his poetry that just feels good to me. I feel the…
Recorded on location at Arches National Park in Moab, Utah. Specifically, at the La Sal mountains look out—not that I could see anything. While this is a lovely poem, it's also another poem that I recorded sitting down. At least this time I wasn't at my desk, I was still enclosed in a car. It wasn't quite as bad, and the view was nice, but it isn't my ideal. I'm not sure that you all notice, but…
A very different thing today: I'm stuck indoors and so this was recorded at home. So weird. Still, I don't think you'll get bored, because I get all artsy: give it a listen and let me know how much you like (or dislike) it. Get full access to Lucky Words at luckywords.substack.com/subscribe
When I was in high school and probably completely insufferable, I used to walk around with a book of poetry in my back pocket. Keats was a big favorite then. I'm not sure why; I mean he is great, but it's not exactly stuff that should thrill an obnoxious young kid. And I was very obnoxious. I cringe looking back at myself in those days. Get full access to Lucky Words at…
Hiking in the snow is always harder than hiking on dirt, but there's still snow on the ground and so I'll take what I can get. The cold does present one particular difficulty, of course, that it makes my nose run and I have to edit out about a thousand sniffs. I didn't get them all, and for that I apologize. Get full access to Lucky Words at luckywords.substack.com/subscribe
Reading and analysis of this poem by John Ashbery, while hiking in the Utah mountains Get full access to Lucky Words at luckywords.substack.com/subscribe
This is kind of a lonely poem for a lonely day hiking. Not lonely, exactly, but very alone. I spent probably five hours and saw, maybe, three human beings. It was good. I like to be alone. Sometimes. I also like to be with those I love. When I am with other people, I think about them. I am a person in society. When I am alone, I think about God, or nature, or poetry and art, or all of those…
More adventures in Canyonlands National Park in southern Utah. I hike to be quiet and alone. This hike took me on the White Rim Trail, one of the destination trails for 4x4 affectionados. Which is about the opposite of me. I like my peace and quiet, which never includes dirtbikes or ATVs. Of course, every one I saw at least waved at me, and often were very friendly and chatty. I tell a story of…
This recording was originally much longer than what I've got for you here. I took a fork in a trail which led me to an overlook that was so magnificent, so overwhelming, that I just stood there, mostly mute. It's vastness, it's quiet emptiness: it made me feel small and like a thing touching divinity. Later, on that same hike, I discovered tiny tiny flowers that I hadn't noticed before. They were…
I spent a few days in Moab, camping and hiking and writing and recording. It was lovely. This episode was recorded as I was hiking in Canyonlands National Park on the Murphy loop. I did edit out some long stretches of just me walking (not excatly compelling audio, that), and a couple of times were I got distracted by something I saw. I did leave in a couple shorter ones (a lizard in one instance,…
One of the beautiful days in April in Utah, talking about a beautiful sport in Boston. (OK, this year, there's very little beautiful about baseball in Boston, but last year was great and there's always next year.) Some American poetry today, because today feels like a good day to be an American. This is not an easy poem. It's weird. Don't worry too much about getting it "right." That's not the…
On a trail up American Fork canyon, listening to the water rushing down the mountain as it melts from the snowpack. It's mesmerizing. I know it just sounds like a static hiss on the recording: maybe you can hear it as a natural sound and not just a background noise. There's something magical about this transition between seasons. There's something magical about seeing the world transform itself,…
While one a short hike right near the border between Utah and Idaho, I tried to capture the songs of all the [Western Meadowlarks]( https://www.audubon.org/field-guide/bird/western-meadowlark ) around me. If you listen closely, you can just hear them. It's one of my favorite birdsongs, and they're not shy about singing it. Today's poem is another of Shakespeare's sonnets. If you didn't hear my…
This was recorded on a super windy day in Moab. I didn't realize just how much it had affected the recording until I tried to listen to it at home. I tried to make it listenable in Audacity and GarageBand, and even still it sounds pretty lousy. Which is really too bad, because the poem is great and the locale was spectacular. There are few things more pleasant than sitting on warm slickrock when…
Today's poem, perfectly titled for a beautiful day in April, is a pretty tough one for me. Even now, listening to what I said when I recorded, I'm only half-convinced of my interpretation. I have noticed some new stuff, that I would include if I could. But the recording is not a historical event, captured in this one-take. I did do a little editing in this recording, though. A good chunk is me…
This was recorded at Arches National Park a while back, on a cold, cold morning. It was a great time to read this wonderful Mary Oliver poem about mornings (and happiness and goodness). I apologize that the sound quality on this is so lousy. I am clearly no professional sound engineer, and there is all sorts of clipping and sound that's blown out by the wind and my poor mic skills. I did what I…
Squelchy, snowy hike up the Big Springs trail on a day that couldn't decide what weather felt right. There's a particular beauty in being in a monochromatic landscape like this; it makes me feel small and vulnerable. I've spent much too much time indoors this winter, and I feel more out of shape than I ever have before. I get out of breath more quickly, and the muscles on my legs are less defined…
It's a new year, and a new season of Lucky Words. Or, rather, it's a new season! Of Lucky Words! I'm back! And I'm glad you're back, too. I've missed you; I hope you've missed me, too. It is almost National Poetry Month again, and so it's time to fire up the old recorder and get out hiking. Spring is springing (slowly), and it is a perfect time to be outdoors. This was recorded sitting in my car…
There is a lot more that could be said about sonnet 20, but this should serve as a nice introduction to this one, especially for you listeners who are not regular readers of Shakespeare's sonnets. This is one of the crazy ones, or at least one of the difficult-to-categorize-Shakesepeare's-sexuality ones. I recorded this while out birding one morning (yes, I am a middle aged white male: so what?)…
It's a lunchtime post -- or, rather, it's a lunchtime recording. I took a hike at lunchtime and recorded while I was hiking (literally, which is why my breathing is a little more apparent than usual) right before I stopped to eat. Today's poem is one that has been my favorite since about 1990, when I first read the poem. I was living in Brazil at the time as a Mormon missionary, and a girl sent…
For the second of our look together at some of Shakespeare's sonnets, today's selection is the most famous: sonnet 18, the famous "Shall I comapre thee to a summer's day?" The only sonnet that rivals it in popular consciousness is Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "How do I love thee? Let me count the ways." I approach this with a little reticence, since it's such well-trod territory, but it helps to…
For Easter, a discussion of George Herbert's "Easter Wings." Recorded while out on a hike on a beautiful afternoon in the foothills under Mt. Timpanogos in beautiful Utah. Get full access to Lucky Words at luckywords.substack.com/subscribe
Text of this poem (and all the other episodes of Lucky Words) are available at jeffreywindsor.net . Get full access to Lucky Words at luckywords.substack.com/subscribe
Just a quick one today to remind you that National Poetry Month is coming back in April, and Lucky Words will be there, too, with another season of poems in the ourdoors. If the weather holds (it won't), this will be a perfect year for being outdoors in the mountain west. Today it is a perfect temperature and humidity: this is what heaven feels like to me. 55 degrees and sunny with a slight breeze…
Happy Fourth of July! It's Independence Day, and I'm finally putting up a new post. Today's recording was actually over an hour long, most of which was my listening to a fellow hiker tell me all his stories about encounters with Sasquach. I have no idea what to do with that. Get full access to Lucky Words at luckywords.substack.com/subscribe
