Great Regulars: Often when I dig some change out

of my jeans pocket to pay somebody for something, the pennies and nickels are accompanied by a big gob of blue lint. So it's no wonder that I was taken with this poem by a Massachusetts poet, Gary Metras, who isn't embarrassed.

Lint

from Ted Kooser: American Life in Poetry: Column 257

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In The Alley
by Ted Kooser

In the alley behind the florist's shop,

from Ted Kooser: The Writer's Almanac: In The Alley by Ted Kooser

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