Rita Dove Poems
- Exit Just when hope withers, the visa is granted. The door ...
- Flirtation After all, there's no need to say anything
- Heart To Heart It's neither red nor sweet.
- "I Have Been A Stranger I...
- Adolescence I In water-heavy nights behind grandmother's ...
- Canary Billie Holiday's burned voice had as many shadows as ...
- "Teach Us To Number Our D... In the old ...
Rita Frances Dove (born August 28, 1952) is an American poet and author. From 1993–1995 she served as Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress. She was the first African American to be appointed since the position was created by an act of Congress in 1986 out of the previous "consultant in poetry" position (1937–86). Dove also received an appointment as "special consultant in poetry" for the Library of Congress's bicentennial year from 1999–2000. Dove is the second African American to receive the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry, in 1987, and she served as the Poet Laureate of Virginia from 2004–2006.
Dove was born in Akron, Ohio to Ray Dove, the ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Quotationsmore quotations »
''Everybody who's anybody longs to be a tree''Rita Dove (b. 1952), U.S. poet and fiction writer. "Horse and Tree," line 1 (1989).
''Everyone waiting here was once in love.''Rita Dove (b. 1952), U.S. poet and fiction writer. "Old Folk's Home, Jerusalem," last line (1989).
''They were masculine toys. They were tall wishes. They were the ribs of the modern world.''Rita Dove (b. 1952), U.S. poet and fiction writer. "Silos," last paragraph of the prose poem (1989).
Just when hope withers, the visa is granted.
The door opens to a street like in the movies,
clean of people, of cats; except it is your street
you are leaving. A visa has been granted,
'provisionally'-a fretful word.
The windows you have closed behind
you are turning pink, doing what they do
every dawn. Here it's gray. The door
to the taxicab waits. This suitcase,
the saddest object in the world.
Well, the world's open. And now through
the windshield the sky begins to blush
as you did when your mother told you
what it took to be a woman in ...