Charles Rafferty

Charles Rafferty’s Followers (16)

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Charles Rafferty


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Charles Rafferty is a poet, editor, and director of the MFA program at Albertus Magnus College in New Haven, Connecticut. He graduated from Richard Stockton College of New Jersey with a B.A. in Literature and Language, and later received an M.F.A. in Creative Writing from the University of Arkansas. He has published four books of poetry along with several chapbooks, had his work published in The New Yorker and RATTLE, and in 2009 received a National Endowment for the Arts fellowship.

Average rating: 4.43 · 114 ratings · 13 reviews · 22 distinct worksSimilar authors
The Smoke of Horses

4.23 avg rating — 26 ratings2 editions
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A Cluster of Noisy Planets

4.40 avg rating — 15 ratings3 editions
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The Man on the Tower: Poems...

4.90 avg rating — 10 ratings — published 1995 — 3 editions
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Where the Glories of April ...

really liked it 4.00 avg rating — 7 ratings — published 2001
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Moscodelphia

3.86 avg rating — 7 ratings2 editions
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Saturday Night at Magellan's

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 4 ratings — published 2013 — 4 editions
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A Less Fabulous Infinity

4.67 avg rating — 3 ratings — published 2006
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The Unleashable Dog

4.67 avg rating — 3 ratings — published 2014 — 2 editions
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The Problem with Abundance:...

4.50 avg rating — 2 ratings
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Somebody Who Knows Somebody

4.50 avg rating — 2 ratings — published 2021
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More books by Charles Rafferty…
Quotes by Charles Rafferty  (?)
Quotes are added by the Goodreads community and are not verified by Goodreads. (Learn more)

“Each October I walk into the woods
looking for bones: rabbit skulls,
a grackle spine, the pelvis of a deer
with the blood bleached out. What died
in the lush of roses and mint
shines out from the tangle of twigs
that bind it to the place
of its last leaping. The living lack
that kind of clarity. In late April,
when the water spreads out and out
till everything is lilies and seepage,
there is only the mystery of tracks,
a rustle receding in the many reeds.
And so the bones accumulate
across my windowsill: the flightless
wings and exaggerated grins,
the silent unmoving reminders
of where the glories of April lead.”
Charles Rafferty, Where the Glories of April Lead

“When you stand on the banks
of Penn Swamp Pond in August,
those injuries can save your life
and keep you picking till the bush is bare.”
Charles Rafferty, Where the Glories of April Lead



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