Poetry Friday is with Carol at Carol’s Corner.
In my Inbox, I found this prompt from Poets and Writers:
| In his 1821 essay “A Defence of Poetry,” Percy Bysshe Shelley writes, “Poetry is…the perfect and consummate surface and bloom of all things; it is as the odor and the color of the rose to the texture of the elements which compose it….” Make a list of words and phrases that describe the surface textures, odors, and colors that surround you as this year draws to an end, choosing the details that are most evocative of the season. You may find yourself drawing inspiration from the contrasting primary colors of holiday cheer, bright puffy parkas or dark wool coats, the shiny prints and textures of patterned gift wrap, the stark tones of snow, or the scents of fragrant conifers and baked desserts. Write a trio of poems, each focusing on one type of sensory input. Select an element–setting, narrator’s voice, repeated words, or a specific object–that stays constant through all three, tying them together. |
I was relaxing at my daughter’s house in New Orleans after a long, amazing, yet tiring weekend at NCTE. The mowers came to mow the median. And this poem emerged.
I.
Even in November
mowers hum,
chopping remains of green,
throwing dust to the wind.My soul prepares
for the cold,
curled up in a blanket,
wearing wool socks.This cooling of air
this crisping of leaves, grass, my toes
gives space for new growth
prepares for seeds to flower.II
When I hear
mower sounds,
wind playing its violin,I turn my ear–
Listen.III
I see black faces
of the mowers earnestly
getting the job done.
Do they take pride
in their mowing?Do they take their families
for a ride later,
drive by the median
on Carrollton Avenue,
point to the grass,
and say, “I did that!” ?Do any of us
see the lawn of our lives
as beauty
we have created?–Margaret Simon
Love the prompt and response. NCTE looks like it was grand in learning and in sharing. Happy that you got to go.
We should all take time to see the beauty of our work… it’s part of what makes it NOT work! Thank you for the gift of this poem. I love the wind playing its violin… lovely! xo
Thanks for your comment. Your praise means a lot to me. Missing you already.
What a really interesting prompt! I’m impressed with the way you took it, then pulled the three poems together with your last question. I want to try this!
In response to your comment about UNBOUND- I have no idea how the first round judges are going to choose 5-7 books from all of the marvelous nominees– there are so many terrific books this year. And I can’t imagine being a second round judge and having to whittle down those terrific choices to one book! Yikes!
The lawn of my life…I suppose like my actual lawn, it’s not a perfectly manicured square of green, but I love it for the diversity of species, the variety of textures and colors, the little bit of barely-tamed wildness around the edges.
Great extension of the metaphor, Mary Lee. Thanks!
That last poem really struck a chord with me – growing up, my father always said that anyone job worth doing was worth taking pride in, and he would always put all of his effort into even the smallest, most mundane tasks, because he felt they reflected on him. Hopefully the lawn mowing crew get the same sense of satisfaction from a job well done!
Wisdom of our fathers.
Wonderful prompt and poem. Your final question is one to ponder.
Wonderful poem. Thank you for sharing the prompt; I’ve made note to try it myself. I’ve been pondering the “crystal stairs” in Langston Hughes’ “Mother to Son” and now your final question (which I love) makes me think of the “lawn of life.” Such common things–stairs and lawns, but powerful metaphors of our uncommon lives.
I enjoyed reading about the prompt and where you were when you wrote, Margaret. “Lawn of our lives” will stay with me!
Thank you for adding this to the DMC collection, Margaret. IMHO, your state of mind while writing this qualifies as a place of refuge and solace!
What an intriguing prompt. Thanks for sharing your response to it, Margaret. I love the image of the “lawn of our lives.”
As many have said, the “lawn of our lives” will stick with me.
Margaret, this trio of poems is so effective. I love the weighty ending:
“Do any of us
see the lawn of our lives
as beauty
we have created?”
Hi, Margaret–(how wonderful to spend time with you last week (so short ago and yet so long)! I have a poem about just that last idea that I’ve never been able to finish–about a laborer who brings his kids to see the sidewalk he has framed and poured and smoothed and set. Thanks for reminding me of it, and of the wide range of “poems” we humans create.
I also like the wind playing violin and the lawn of our lives. Such a deeply satisfying poem on so many levels.
This afternoon David is on the lawn mower, reminding me of this post. Pop still mows; he likes it. There is something about lateral movement, whether walking, driving, mowing, that stirs the creative juices and sets the mind free.The lawns of our lives continue to grow, and we continue to trim them, feed them, replace the sod, and occasionally introduce rye grass. Happily, dandelions and clover still sneak in. We mow, they grow…
Your comment is a poem. Thanks.
How lovely to have been inspired by Percy Bysshe Shelley and by the seemingly-ordinary things you see around you – what a gift.