Poetry through the Pandemic

In March of last year, family and friends were getting ready to celebrate the poet David Ferry’s 96th birthday. The owner of Matt Murphy’s, a pub near where he lived in Brookline, Mass., offered to host the gathering. Before moving last year to a retirement home, he would have lunch there several times a week, accompanied by friends and a glass of whiskey. In good Irish tradition, Matt Murphy’s saw Dad as a kind of bard-in-residence; lines from his poem “Lake Water” are stenciled on the wall.