LAST NIGHT AT P&G SPEAKEASY CAFE IN DUVALL Poet Margaret D. Smith read from her new book BARN SWALLOW (Brass Weight Press 2006) and sang us songs from her upcoming CD.
We were all hot and downing much lemonade or rubbing ice across our necks and foreheads but Margaret's surprising images, bright/dark words, and songs took us into gardens, beaches, on winter walks, down under ponds, into childhood, old age, and back again. Oh, and did I mention Ireland? Yes we went there too.
More poets read at the open mic. War and peace where words that ran deep. Poet Katherine Grace Bond was emcee -- she will be reading from her book CONSIDERING FLIGHT next month July 24 at the P&G Speakeasy. Who wants to go? I do! I do!
Here's a poem from BARN SWALLOW
This would sound more beautiful in Greek.
In Grandma's garden, a lemon tree
so heavy with fruit she would lead us
long times around the tree with buckets,
wrapping our hands around them, telling
us, Pull, letting them sleep in deep piles
in our laps. To our noses they grew so
holy, too bad we had to pull them down
for tea and lemon pie.
Our fingers dug through ivy and surprised
a nest of mice babies, climbing blind,
squeaking for mice milk with no mother,
no father anywhere. We shouted to Grandpa,
Come look! We never saw any babies
more pink we wanted to hug before.
And do you know what he did? He scooped
them up and dumped them all
in the incinerator behind the garage.
I know what we wanted to do, shut our ears,
run downhill screaming at Grandpa, but
it was too sad. We didn't move by
the new grave, just sat. Mignon
and Celeste came up to us wagging
their tails with puff balls, puff hairdos,
puff shoulders and eyes with sad water,
sat down in our laps, letting us rub
their ears as long as we wanted.
Margaret D. Smith is author of six books.
Barn Swallow(Brass Weight Press, 2006) A Holy Struggle (Shaw, 1992) and The Rose and
the Pearl (Inchbird, 1998). Margaret also speaks internationally on the work of Gerard Manley Hopkins.
May poetry find you this week.
May the words surprise you and may your pen flow
in cool dark evening rivers.
Until the next blog. Be well.