"we encounter each other in words"

. . .

Someone is trying to make music somewhere with a pair of wooden spoons on an oil drum with cello, boom box, harmonica, voice.

A woman and her son wait for the bus.

A farmer considers the changing sky; A teacher says, "Take out your pencils. Begin."

We encounter each other in words, words spiny or smooth, whispered or declaimed; words to consider, reconsider.

. . .

the lines that stuck with me from elizabeth alexander's inaugural poem the"Praise song for every hand-lettered sign; The figuring it out at kitchen tables."

Check out this article from salon: "How to Write a Poem for the President" on the joy of having an inaugural poem, the challenge, the history of "occasional poems" and why we'll hear echoes of Whitman, Brooks and Lincoln.