I like poetry. I would say I love poetry, but I'm trying not to gush. Part of my admiration has to do with a rampant envy of the poet's way with words and their ability to convey the human condition with such emotion. Not just the poem itself, but the titles as well. I have a hard time titling. I just don't seem to have the kind of mind it takes to "allude" in such a profound way. My thought processes are too literal. I think it must be a "nurse thing," the years of having to observe and chart exactly what's happening or suffer dire consequences.
I am selective about the poetry I read, though. I prefer the imagery and response of "observer poets" to the ones who fall on the thorns of life and bleed.
In any event, here are some of the intriguing titles I have admired:
THE BLACK CHAMBER by Donald Hall
COME, THIEF: Poems by Jane Hirshfield
EUROPEAN BLUES by Louis Jenkins
FIRST WORDS by Joyce Sutphen. And from this body of work, a poem called "On the Way to the Farm I Think of My Sister." Click HERE if you'd like to hear it.