David Baker


David Baker (1954-present) was born in Bangor, Maine and raised in Missouri. He graduated from Central Missouri State University and received his PhD from the University of Utah. Baker has taught at Kenyon College, the University of Michigan, Ohio State University, and is currently a Professor at Denison College. He is the Poetry Editor of The Kenyon Review and currently lives in Granville, Ohio.  Source

Holiday Wish

No snow. A little fog. The afternoon

is a few short hours and evening falls.

But look how the sun hangs down

its old rope good for one more pull.

Look at the latticework of leaves

in the stricken ash, golden in the gray,

like coins in a purse or notes from some old hymn. 

I hope my friends are warm this day.

I hope the ones I love, will always love—

the one gone far away, the two sweet

souls holding hands near the end,

humming through a feverish night,

the ones whose needs I cannot guess

or have no needs this lucky day 

on earth—I hope for them, for all of us,

a little peace, a touch of hope, another day

come round with easy light. So quiet now. 

So still. A flake of snow, then two.

I hope you hear a bell from far away 

begin to peal. This bell I pull for you.





Literary Movements:


Anthology Years:



Love & Relationships


Literary Devices:


the repetition of the same letter or sound at the beginning of words appearing in succession


a figure of speech in which words repeat at the beginning of successive clauses, phrases, or sentences


the absence of a conjunction (for, and, nor, but, or, yet, so…) between phrases and within a sentence


a line break interrupting the middle of a phrase which continues on to the next line


an instruction or a command


a recurrence of the same word or phrase two or more times


correspondence of sound between words or the endings of words, especially when these are used at the ends of lines of poetry


a comparison between two unlike things using the words “like” or “as”