The following poem, by Tim Nolan, (which you can listen to HERE on The Writer's Almanac before you read it), slows our reading down with its short couplets. It asks us to pay the same amount of attention to the 'forgotten'. But this isn't just a poem about a literal change of season. The introduction of the human relationship in the middle of the poem - the flush of your face/ so much - asks me to reconsider the other imagery, the statements at the close of the poem, and the title as metaphor. Here it is and many thanks to Tim for giving his permission:
Long Winter
So much I've forgotten
the grass
the birds
the close insects
the shoot—the drip—
the spray of the sprinkler
freckles—strawberries—
the heat of the Sun
the impossible
humidity
the flush of your face
so much
the high noon
the high grass
the patio ice cubes
the barbeque
the buzz of them—
the insects
the weeds—the dear
weeds—that grow
like alien life forms—
all Dr. Suessy and odd—
here we go again—
we are turning around
again—this will all
happen over again—
and again—it will—
Tim Nolan
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| If you're in the UK or Europe then check out the The Book Depository for Tim's collection, The Sound of It. |
What do you take from that penultimate couplet and the final line on its own? Inevitability, acceptance, understanding?
I take comfort from it; repetition in all its guises can be comforting. Although my comfort is tinged by inquietude. I'm not sure I want another long winter, I'm not sure that I want some things to happen over again. But I also know that my experience of life is deepened by living through change.
Poems that make us think, that shift us between different emotions, these are the ones to cherish.
I don't want to be prescriptive with a poetry prompt. Let this poem work on you through several readings then set out on a journey of your own.
Write well.
L
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