Upon Encountering a Poem

Self loves this poem, which she encountered just this evening in the Spring 2010 issue of The Malahat Review (Self began her subscription to this journal a few years ago.  The only reason self heard about it in the first place was that it published an O. Henry Prize-winning story — “The Deep,” by Mary Swan — almost a decade ago.  It was a story so long it was almost a novella. But she still remembers it, after all these years).

The poem self has just finished reading is by Laura Crozier, and is the third of a series of poems called “Bach’s Suite for Solo Cello in D Minor.”

The second poem in the series, “Music is More Precious,” was also about seasons and change and nature, and why self chose to quote the third poem and not the second one is a mystery that self cannot answer. In general, though — or perhaps it’s just this year, since she seems to be spending more time gardening than ever before — self loves poems about gardens and seasons, and since self encountered this when it is actually fall, the poem truly resonated with her :

Go Wild
by Laura Crozier

At night something whispers
go wild, to the maple
and by morning it’s gone so far
it’s redder than the reddest
fox — about to spring.

Yesterday the tree was merely green.

Its transformation startles,
leaps inside you,
yet you see it every fall,

know it the way you know
what music does
to sadness, its deepest
listening, disturbed.

The Weekend Is Upon Us, Happy Happy Joy Joy

It is the third weekend of October (2010). Amazing.

Today was a most gorgeous day, dear blog readers. It was sunny and warm, and while hubby took himself off to meet with some fellow engineers to discuss strategies for surviving the lousy climate for California engineers, self went to Safeway and bought:

  • 2 39.1-oz bags of Skittles, $3 each
  • a huge furry black spider ($5.99), which she has already attached to the mailbox, where it looks satisfyingly tacky
  • a huge pumpkin, so heavy it nearly threw self’s back out while she lifted out of the shopping cart and into her trunk ($4.99)
  • various cold cuts (Oscar Mayer honey roasted turkey breast, and so forth)
  • Beck’s beer ($7.49 for a six-pack), for what would the weekend be without some beer —  especially since the Giants are playing tomorrow!
  • a whole rack of pork loin baby back ribs

Self is still inching her way through Ryszard Kapuscinki’s Travels with Herodotus.  Since she knew almost nothing about this writer before she started reading this book, she decided to google him and found some less than flattering articles (all written in the years since his death, which self thinks is a very questionable practice:  Let’s go ahead and kick the dead writer after he/she has passed on and can no longer respond!).  Most of these articles have to do with the fact that Kapuscinski may have exaggerated some of his reporting from Africa.  OK, what writer doesn’t exaggerate, even a little.  Self means to say …

She wished she hadn’t read those articles, though, because when she first started the book, the voice filled her with such exhilaration.

What she loves about Kapuscinski is his voice.  For self, writing is all about emotion.  Which is of course inextricably linked to a writer’s voice.

Let’s see:  what else?  Presenting on flat-screen HDTV is the first game of the Yankees/Rangers series.  Self decided to have a slice of sharp cheddar cheese, a slice of roast beef, and some red wine.

Underneath the front door welcome mat is the battery-operated, shrieking doormat which self sets out every Halloween for trick or treaters.  The little kids, especially, love this shrieking thing, and keep stomping on the doormat just to hear the battery-driven shrieks.  Now she’s set it out for hubby’s benefit, so that when he gets home, he will get a big surprise!

Stay tuned, dear blog readers.  Stay tuned.

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