Villa Les Marronniers. That’s the name of our new house in Antibes. Up until today we’d only ever been there in the presence of the old proprietor, an elderly lady who had lots of dark furniture and who kept most of the shutters closed. But this afternoon we opened all the windows, doors and shutters on every floor, let the sunlight stream across the old tiles and the walls with their ghosts of paintings, and Tony played the baby grand piano (the only piece of furniture left) and it felt like the house had woken up from a long, long sleep, almost as if it might be singing!
Yes, I’m euphoric.
What has lifted you? What has made you feel joyous? A place of natural beauty, or a town or city? Someone or something? Maybe a colour, or a shape, or a sound? Is it easier, or is there a more common tendency, to write about tragedy or loss than celebration? Perhaps that’s something Linda Pastan had in mind when she wrote the following poem:
AutumnI want to mention
summer ending
without meaning the death
of somebody loved
or even the death
of the trees.
Today in the market
I heard a mother say
Look at the pumpkins,
it’s finally autumn!
And the child didn’t think
of the death of her mother
which is due before her own
but tasted the sound
of the words on her clumsy tongue:
pumpkin; autumn.
Let the eye enlarge
with all it beholds.
I want to celebrate
color, how one red leaf
flickers like a match
held to dry branch,
and the whole world goes up
in orange and gold.
Linda Pastanfrom
Carnival Evening, New & Selected Poems 1968-1998WW Norton & Co 1998
Buy now from The Book DepositoryWhat is it you want to celebrate? Be expansive, throw open your poetic arms and don’t be frightened to show the world what brings you joy.
