Welcome back to The Daily Poem. I'm David Kern, and today is Tuesday, October 6th, 2020.

On this date, in 1979, today's poet died. Elizabeth Bishop lived from February of 1911 to October 6th of

1979. She was, of course, an American poet. She was consultant in poetry to the Library of Congress

from 1949 to 1950, and the Pulitzer Prize winner in poetry to the Library of Congress from 1949 to 1950 and the

Pulitzer Prize winner for poetry in 1956, as well as the National Book Award winner in 1970.

Certainly one of the most beloved, well-respected poets of the 20th century.

Today's poem, which I'll read in honor of her and remembrance of her death, is called A Miracle for Breakfast.

It was published in Poetry Magazine in October of 1972.

It begins with this quotation at the beginning.

Quote, miracles enable us to judge of doctrine, and doctrine enables us to judge of miracles, end

quote. At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee, waiting for coffee and the charitable

crumb that was going to be served from a certain balcony, like kings of old, or like a miracle.

It was still dark. One foot of the sun steadied itself on a long ripple in the river. The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.

It was so cold we hoped the coffee would be very hot, seeing that the sun was not going to warm us,

and that the crumb would be a loaf of each buttered by a miracle.

At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.

He stood for a minute alone on the balcony, looking over our heads toward the river.

A servant handed him the makings of the miracle, consisting of one lone cup of coffee and one roll,

which he proceeded to crumb, his head, so to speak, in the clouds, along with the sun.

Was the man crazy? What under the sun was he trying to do up there on his balcony?

Each man received one rather hard crumb, which some flicked scornfully into the river,

and in a cup one drop of the coffee.

...