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.



  • Saturday, January 31, 2015 1:01am
    The doe, at a dead run, was dead the instant the truck hit her: In the headlights I saw her tongue extend and her eyes go shocked and vacant, Launched at a sudden right angle—say from twenty miles per hour south to fifty miles per hour east—she skated many yards on the slightest toe-edge tips... Read more »
  • Friday, January 30, 2015 1:01am
    It is 1959. It is the cusp of the coming revolution. We still like Ike. We are still afraid of Sputnik. We read Life magazine and Sports Illustrated where the athletes grow up shooting hoops in the driveway, playing catch in the backyard. We sit on our sectional sofa. My mother loves Danish modern. Our... Read more »
  • Thursday, January 29, 2015 1:01am
    We’d not have guessed that we’d be heartened so To see this snowshoe rabbit, months from snow, Come from the woods with that shy tread of his, Drawn by our bushy rows of lettuces, His summer coat all rich soft grays and browns, His feet as overstated as a clown’s. How delicate he is: he... Read more »
  • Wednesday, January 28, 2015 1:01am
    In trains we need not choose our company For all the logic of departure is That recognition is suspended; we Are islanded in unawareness, as Our minds reach out to where we want to be. But carried thus impersonally on, We hardly see that person opposite Who, if we only knew it, might be one... Read more »
  • Tuesday, January 27, 2015 1:01am
    On the street outside the window someone is talking to someone else, a baffling song, no words, only the music of voices—low contralto of questions, laughter’s plucked strings—voices in darkness below stars where someone straddles a bike up on the balls of his feet, and someone else stands firm on a curb, her arms crossed,... Read more »