Happy Poetry Friday! (Wondering what Poetry Friday is? Click here.)
Today, I’m sharing another calendar poem. I know–it’s been a few weeks! For this one, nobody had suggested words for me (I’ve since gotten a few words suggested, but I still need more, so please go here if you’d like to suggest a word!), so I picked three words at random from Amy Ludwig VanDerwater’s With My Hands. See Jama’s post at Alphabet Soup last week for an awesome introduction to this beautiful book! Using the old close-your-eyes-and-point method, I chose the words wrap, leaves, and hear.
Here’s my poem:
NOTE: I wrote this poem a few weeks ago, so it’s not related to my glum this week feeling. This poem is just a winter-eerie kind of poem, not reflecting my personal mood. Just don’t want you guys to infer that I’m in some mournful state!
That said, I’ve been feeling a bit glum this week. I think it’s because it’s been a week full of the business side of writing life with very little actual writing going on. I’m also coming to terms with the fact that our older daughter is moving to La Crosse, WI, three hours away. I’m glad both our daughters are independent and adventurous, but it will be odd having neither one in town. So I guess there’s some melancholy about that, too. (Though I wrote the above poem before the whole moving-to-La Crosse thing came up!)
And for lots of wonderful poetry, don’t miss the Poetry Friday Roundup with Heidi at My Juicy Little Universe. There you’ll find a fantastic interview with Irene Latham and Liz Steinglass about the Progressive Poem Irene always runs for Poetry Month.
23 Responses
Your poem is both heartbreaking and beautiful.
Thanks, Kimberly–the wind always seems so sad and lonely…
Lovely wailing and melancholic poem Laura, I love the repeated refrain, and your branches being swept away by the wind. Hope your spirits lift–perhaps some spring like weather will appear soon, thanks!
Thanks, Michelle!
Hmm. I love this sad, questioning poem, the typewriter type (am I right) & the tree image. But who is the wind’s lost companion?The leaves? Here in Florida (as you know!) We have so many trees such as palm & cedar that don’t ususwally lose anything to wind — perhaps branches. If I answer the questions, I am not in a space right now of loss. So I love strong wind, even fierce (as long as it doesn’t bring hurricanes.) Wonderful found words, powerful mood. And three hours will seem like eternity at first, but as you know I just enjoyed a great week with our far-away gal & it was great to see her soaring in her chosen environment. So glad for your similar close Mom-daughters bond.
Thanks, Jan–yes, the font is a typewriter, though this was created in an app on my phone! I’m not sure who that companion is, but I do love the eerie wailing of the wind at night. Glad you had a good visit! We go see our daughter who lives overseas in less than a month, and it will be great to see her. She’s lived overseas for four years now. So three hours is much closer than that:>) Thank you!
Good Morning, Laura. Happy Poetry Month-Eve. I know that the joys of April will pick your mood up a bit. It’s a sure bet. And, I so understand that melancholy that comes from having done your job of raising independent children. It is so bitter sweet. All this work that goes into these baby birds and they fly so far away!
Your poem holds the questions that sadness brings when losing something. That mournful moan we feel if we don’t allow to pass our lips. Such a winter poem can only be making way for a burst of beautiful, beautiful spring!
Thank you, Linda–love the way you expressed that:>)
Dear Laura, since we moved to a bluff overlooking a lake, we have learned so much about WIND! It’s pretty amazing really. And your poem is plaintive, and of course you’re thinking of the loss of your daughter, which while wonderful to see our fledgling fly — yes, also a little sad and lonely. (Our graduating senior interviews for a summer camp counselor job today which may mean he’ll be gone ALL SUMMER… when I’d been thinking, at least we have summer!) Changes… thinking of you. xo
Thanks, Irene–yes, there’s the abstract “She will likely move elsewhere at some point” versus the “Oh, you’re moving on May 4? While we’re overseas visiting your sister who lives across the world? What the heck?” Hehe. But happy for independence, too, of course. Hugs to you, too. Changes, indeed.
“rattle brittle leaves”
Swoon.
Much love to you Laura. You have a way of turning glum into lovely. (I am glad my book had some words for you!)
xxx
Thanks, Amy–your book has so MANY words for me. Not just for this poem, but for affirming my joy in creating anything, no matter how lovely or NOT the outcome may be:>)
Hello Laura, I also have adult children who are fleeing home – like the wind! I like the idea of the wind weeping for the person who has a moment to listen and feel it. It sounds and feels a bit empathetic and comforting to me.
Thanks, Susan–I’m glad the poem resonated with you. Hugs!
What a perfect companion poem your “Do You Hear the Wind?” would be to Christina Rossetti’s “Who Has Seen The Wind?”, a childhood favorite of mine. I’m looking forward to the cold winter wind’s fingers releasing their death grip on my frail japanese maple. Thank you for your lovely offering, and I’m wishing you a spring filled with sunshine.
Oh, thank you, Christie–that is a beautiful poem. Haven’t seen it in a while. Good luck with your Japanese maple. I killed one at our house. It stayed the same size for many years (I know it’s slow growing, but this was beyond that) and was leafless for a few (even though still green inside). Sigh. Better luck with yours!
Hi, Laura–I love this poem, and the sketch is fetching, but I’m REALLY interested in your 2018 Sierra Club project. There’s a poem in Pumpkin Butterfly called “Charles Darwin’s Garden Party” which is really just a list of the pictured flora, fauna and features from a Sierra Club Calendar c. 2004. You’ve added the fun of word suggestions from the community! Is there one place I can go see what you’ve done so far, or should I scroll?
Thank you, Heidi–OH! I didn’t know that. Will have to go read that poem again! I’ve only shared 5 so far. If you go to https://laurasalas.com/tag/calendar-poems/ and scroll down to oldest post, you’ll see the explanation…
I find sometimes I’m not even in tune to my mood when a sad poem will pop up. Poetry comes from our deepest selves. What a privilege that you share that part of you with us. I hear the wind.
Thanks, Margaret–Annabelle’s moving wasn’t even a known thing when I wrote this poem, so it probably just comes from the ever-slightly-melancholy inner me. The brevity of life is always close to the surface, for me. But you’re so right about things bubbling up in poems we are barely aware of. I just love the mournful wind…
Thanks for your beautiful poem! Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Lovely poem…and does match my mood this week. On top of rain/ice/snow last week, our community is dealing with the deaths of two teens this week of spring break. I didn’t know either, but know many of their friends and teachers.
The beauty of your poem shines through its melancholy tone, Laura. I understand how hard it is to have our grown-up children leave home. Hugs to you!