This is the first time that I have blogged about poetry because, true confession, I used to be a poetry agnostic. I read some poetry Valerie posted on her blog and was really taken by it. She send me some poems and poet suggestions, and I realized that I just hadn't been reading the right poets. At her suggestion I started with Mary Oliver and have been reading poetry ever since. I meant to start this month with poetry, so instead will leave it, and you, with Ted Kooser, my current favorite poet.
The Constellation Orion
I’m delighted to see you, old friend, lying there in your hammock over the next town. You were the first person my son was to meet in the heavens. He’s sleeping now, his head like a small sun in my lap. Our car whizzes along in the night. If he were awake, he’d say, “Look, Daddy, there’s Old Ryan!” but I won’t wake him. He’s mine for the weekend, Old Ryan, not yours.
I love the humor and tender father in that poem and the following poem, I love for it's imagery.
Old Soldiers' Home
On benches in front of the Old Soldiers' Home, the old soldiers unwrap the pale brown packages of their hands, folding the fingers back and looking inside, then closing them up again and gazing off across the grounds, safe with the secret.
I hope one of these connects with you. I've discovered that poetry is like music, if it doesn't resonate, then it's not pleasurable.
Reading: Olive Kitteridge, Elizabeth Strout (Pulitzer Prize for Fiction 2009)
Listening: Temple, Tombs and Hieroglyphs: a popular history of Ancient Egypt by Barbara Mertz (who also writes under the names of Barbara Michaels and Elizabeth Peters, a nom de plume derived from the names of her two children.)