A Bit of Poetry

A few weeks ago I was listening to the radio programme, 'Fresh Air', as seems to be my habit these days as I prepare the daily evening feast. On this particular occasion, Terry Gross was interviewing Pulitzer prize winning poet, W. S. Merwin. I had never heard of him before, although that is saying very little as I do not tend to read a great deal of poetry, and certainly have a poor knowledge of contemporary poets. But there was something about him that I connected with. These days I try to pay attention to such feelings, as they can lead to very interesting discoveries. Merwin has a new collection of poems out called 'The Shadow of Sirius' which he read from and spoke about. His latest work delves into the world of memory and mortality, having lost both his parents in fairly quick succession and since that was the subject of my 'Family Matters' project I felt it was important for me to read these works. The book is a beautiful object in itself. It is, as a note in the back states "set in Verdigris typeface, and printed on archival quality paper", heavy and solid to the touch. Instead of giving you my opinion of the poems, I post a couple here for you to read. If they resonate with you, I recommend picking up a copy of this book yourself.

A Likeness

Almost to your birthday and as I

am getting dressed alone in the house

a button falls off and once I find 

a needle with an eye big enough

for me to try to thread it

and at last have sewed the button on

I open an old picture of you

who always did such things by magic

one photograph found after you died

of you at twenty

beautiful in a way

I would never see

for that was nine years 

before I was born

but the picture has

faded suddenly

spots have marred it

maybe it is past repair

I have only what I remember

A Momentary Creed

I believe in the ordinary day

that is here at this moment and is me

I do not see it going its own way

but I never saw how it came to me

it extends beyond whatever I may

think I know and all that is real to me

it is the present that it bears away

where has it gone when it has gone from me

there is no place I know outside today

except for the unknown all around me

the only presence that appears to stay

everything that I call mine it lent me

even the way that I believe the day

for as long as it is here and is me.

If you are interested, listen to the interview here.