The Writer's Almanac

Weekdays at 7 pm

For complete program information, view the official website for Writer's Almanac.

This five-minute radio gem hosted Garrison Keillor recounts the highlights of that day in history and reads a short poem or two.



  • Thursday, December 18, 2014 1:01am
    The first thing I saw in the morning Was a huge golden bee ploughing His burly right shoulder into the belly Of a sleek yellow pear Low on a bough. Before he could find that sudden black honey That squirms around in there Inside the seed, the tree could not bear any more. The pear... Read more »
  • Wednesday, December 17, 2014 1:01am
    If you have seen the snow under the lamppost piled up like a white beaver hat on the picnic table or somewhere slowly falling into the brook to be swallowed by water, then you have seen beauty and know it for its transience. And if you have gone out in the snow for only the... Read more »
  • Tuesday, December 16, 2014 1:01am
    In Manhattan, I learned a public kindness    was a triumph over the push of money, the constrictions of fear. If it occurred it came    from some deep primal memory, almost entirely lost— Here, let me help you, then you me,    otherwise we’ll die. Which is why I love the weather in Minnesota, every winter kindness... Read more »
  • Monday, December 15, 2014 1:01am
    Up north, the dashboard lights of the family car gleam in memory, the radio plays to itself as I drive my father plied the highways while my mother talked, she tried to hide that low lilt, that Finnish brogue, in the back seat, my sisters and I our eyes always tied to the Big Dipper... Read more »
  • Sunday, December 14, 2014 1:01am
    I like pouring your tea, lifting the heavy pot, and tipping it up, so the fragrant liquid steams in your china cup. Or when you’re away, or at work, I like to think of your cupped hands as you sip, as you sip, of the faint half-smile of your lips. I like the questions —... Read more »