Allow me to introduce you
to Gracie, who's an important part of this poem and my daily life, though I
only get to borrow her from Andy Gray and Erica Bodwell who are her real people. The poem is a self-portrait based on a piece by Adam
Zagjewski. The full Monty will show up here around
noon. Here's the opening.
Self-Portrait with Dog in Winter
At 12, I said I was a child
of the summer and almost
drowned
trying to swim the
Miramichi River,
Now I have lived so long
I can no longer
rise from the floor without
thought.
But even so, the beautiful,
brown dog comes
when I call her, and lays
her long head
on my knee. I
admit, silent snowfall
harasses my mood, also
calorie counts, also the
memory
of my father’s death though
it was
no sadder than most. No
lonelier.
But lately as I fall
asleep,
pictures slide in:
splintering gray porch
boards,
Rose of Sharon
in an old garden. A child
in a sundress
jumping rope on white
sidewalks.
Is this my own life
unreeling
on the screen of my almost
sleep?
Have I forgotten all this
beauty?
I liked Zagjewski's poem, it's
random, un-curated way of trying to express identity. So I thought I'd write
a self-portrait of my own and throw into it--without too much worrying about how one thing might be connected to the next--everything
that's important to me at this stage of my life. I borrowed from Zagjewski the
phrase “children of…” though he said, children of the sky, and the inclusion of
walking through an art gallery and how that made him feel. But I found myself
adding a lot of details to suggest what I experience here and now, both looking back a bit, and also living a (mostly)
peaceful and happy old age. It proved to be an interesting challenge and I'm
pleased with the poem. Besides, it gave me an excuse to show you a picture of
Gracie.
It's always nice to think about ice cream! ;)
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