I suppose each person’s vision of the universe of poetry differs from someone else’s. What stars seem closest. Where new poems are born. How old some of the light is. I’ve been asking what my collection of poetry books says about me.

My library of poetry books is massive, measured in board feet, number of shelves floor to ceiling. One section for anthologies, another for ancient Chinese and Japanese collections. The rest alphabetical by poet’s name. Chapbooks by friends that tell stories of rapes, lost babies, lost loves, coming out to parents. I know poets with bigger collections, but these books are what I’ve sought. Some new. Many “complete works” bought used.

Who do I go back to? Lift off the shelf again and again? Ted Kooser’s The Wheeling Year. Naomi Shihab Nye. Ruth Stone. Wislawa Szymborska. Leaves of Grass. Regional poets who know the same snowfalls I do.

The Guardian, in an article of May 28, 2022 said that women will read books written by men or women in a ratio of 50:50. For men that ratio is 80:20, clear preference for books by men. Which supports what publication counts reveal about publishing and sales statistics despite the field opening up for women in recent decades.

Three months ago I wrote to fifteen women poets I know – all of whom are published in journals. Some quite prominent. I asked if they are more likely to read poetry written by women or men and queried their choices that guide preferences on buying poetry books. Thirteen responded that their bookshelves supported far more books by women poets. One responded that she chooses books based on choices of form, with a preference for sonnets and formalists. The fifteenth said she made her choices for poetry that reflected a multi-cultural world with shared experiences far different than her own. Several mentioned that when reading online journals they look first at the poems written by women. All purchased poetry regularly.

Most of the women I wrote to are over the age of 50. I’m assuming that, like me, they may have been raised on a diet of British or American male poets. All of whom have written inspirational, wonderful poems. Then the occasional Dickinson. A tribute to Phyllis Wheatley. When I was a teenager, I recited Blake’s “Poison Tree” to myself. I had a favorite in George Herbert’s work, a man about whom I knew absolutely nothing. These from a very old copy of the Oxford Book of English Verse.

In my twenties and thirties my go-to poem was Langston Hughes “Mother to Son.” I recited it to dozens of high school English classes. I understood tacks on the stairs.

My favorite poem now is “38” by Layli Long Soldier which I read out loud to myself every few months. I can question why I have picked a favorite in the universe of wonders. My answer: this poem represents the world as I know it. Or as I’ve come to acknowledge what I didn’t know before reading this poem. The many who are silent and missing in history.

In a quick survey I believe that now 80% of the books on my shelves are by women poets and authors.

What does this mean to me as an aging feminist? I scoop up poetry women have written. Some books on my shelves wait to be opened. I’m heartened by the number of people of color and women acknowledged as U. S. Poet Laureates in the last two decades.

I’ve read long Facebook debates about the merits of the work of Rupi Kaur. Also adulation for Amanda Gorman. May these young woman poets and many others now unknown open new windows for me as they have for others. I’ve saved space on my shelves for them. Alongside space for Ocean Vuong. I applaud them all, young poets who find readers and audiences in new ways.

The work of women poets often takes me deeply into the space that my animal-body knows. Not just daughters, mothers, grandmothers, virgins, victims, feminists – but also warriors, goddesses, witnesses, philosophers, and observers. Part of how I come to understand myself and perhaps, I hope, to write better poetry.

Here is a link to “38” by Layli Long Soldier: onbeing.org/poetry/38/ Read it out loud.