He never published a novel. But as a poet, she has been awarded the highest honor in her field: On Tuesday, the Library of Congress announced that she will be the next Poet Laureate of the United States. Limón, who has published six books, will begin her term this fall as the 24th poet laureate, a position held by some of the country’s most celebrated poets, including Louise Glück, Juan Felipe Herrera, Robert Hass and Tracy K. Smith. The poet laureate has few required duties, but becomes an ambassador for the form. Smith focused on increasing access to poetry in rural areas, for example. Joy Harjo, current poet laureate and member of the Muscogee Creek Nation, created a project titled “Living Nations, Living Words,” which included a map highlighting Native American poets and their work. Limón is just beginning to think about a possible next project, but she has ideas about how poetry can help during such a difficult time in the United States. “Right now, so often we’re numb to sadness and numb to tragedy and numb to crisis,” he said. “Poetry is a way back, to acknowledge that we feel as human beings. And feeling sadness and trauma can actually allow us to feel joy again.” In a poem called “Dead Stars,” she encourages her readers to lean into their power: Look, we’re not unusual things. We’ve come this far, we’ve survived this long. What what would happen if we decided to survive longer? To love harder? What if we stood up with our synapses and our flesh and said: No. Limón, 46, who is originally from California, lives in Lexington, Ky., with her husband, Lucas Marquardt, their pug, Lily Bean, and an extra-large cat named Olive. She hosts a poetry podcast called “The Slowdown” — which Ms. Smith started during her poet laureate — and is on faculty in the MFA program at Queens University of Charlotte, North Carolina. He has been awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship and a National Book Critics Circle Award, and was a finalist for the National Book Award. Her poems set to music, embracing the orality of poetry and language, often touch upon the natural world, which she uses as much more than just a setting. Trees, for example, become characters in her poems. sometimes they dance. (“The American linden tree sways wildly from the storm, / a bounce here, a hush there, just swaying like music / left from the end of the night that falls on the avenues before sleep.”) In this context, too, hopes to become an ambassador. “I think we’ve lost our mutual relationship with the land,” he said, “and poetry has the ability to draw attention to the natural world, even if it’s the tree in your yard or the pigeon on the street.” The position of poet laureate is an apolitical one, which may seem limiting in the face of the country’s stark political divide. But the limitation, he said, doesn’t seem like a challenge, because of poetry’s endless possibilities. “It has the ability to show us rage, to connect with our fear, to celebrate joy, to make room for the full range of human emotions,” he said. “Great poetry is where we come to get the power to heal, to become whole again, and then to rededicate ourselves to the world.”
