Poetry Friday this week is hosted by Karen Edmisten Here. Thank you, Karen for hosting this week! Please stop by and see what she is sharing today.
And to begin, congratulations to Irene Latham for her Caldecott Honor award for her picture book, THE CAT MAN OF ALEPPO! And happy birthday, too!
This week I will share work by Edna St. Vincent Millay, a poet was born in Maine in 1892 and lived to be only fifty eight. She wrote drama, librettos, and poetry, winning the Pulitzer Prize in 1923. Early on, she wanted to be a pianist, but since her teacher felt her hands were too small, she decided to write, to our benefit. Some thought her writing was naughty and outrageous, others found her the refreshing voice of the twentieth century woman.
She was the daughter of an independent mother, divorced from a “frivolous” husband. She became a practical nurse to support her children. Of her mother, Millay wrote: “I cannot remember once in the life when you were not interested in what I was working on, or even suggested that I should put it aside for something else.” You can read more about her fascinating life in the link above. But why choose a poem by her today?
Maybe because the end of the pandemic is more forseeable, I’ve been fantasizing about road trips. I can’t complain about a thing because I have much to be grateful for. Still everyday I think about summer and swimming in my favorite park in the Fingerlakes, visiting Maine or the Jersey Shore, the Adirondacks, places I love. I want to see my sister who lives across the country. So when I read the poem, TRAVEL, by Millay, I felt perfect. The language she uses, the sensory details created in me longing to board a train.
Edna St.Vincent Millay
TRAVEL The railroad track is miles away, And the day is loud with voices speaking, Yet there isn't a train goes by all day But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn't a train goes by, Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, But I see it's cinders red on the sky, And hear its engine steaming. My heart is warm with the friends I make, And better friends I'll not be knowing; Yet there isn't a train I wouldn't take, No matter where it's going.
I also have a poem to share from day eight of Laura Shovan’s February poetry Project. The photo for the prompt, with such beautiful detail, was provided by Buffy Silverman.
OLD SNOW Snow clings to winter tree bark like suds to hair and skin after a bath, before a final rinse and sticks around perhaps to dissolve the winter dirt, and scrub the forest trees for spring. © janice Scully 2021
I hope the numbers of vaccines in arms accelerate and all the communities most severely impacted by the pandemic get their shots! All of us want to see our family and friends, get the kids in school, and maybe feel more freedom see more of the world, before too long.
Thanks for sharing both poems today — I do love trains and after reading Millay’s poem I want to take a trip too. 🙂 And I like the comparison of snow to suds in your poem — perfect response to the photo!
I think a lot of people would hop on any train right about now. 🙂
Both poems are lovely & just right for this time, nearly a year of staying home. I love your poem for Buffy’s prompt, the idea of snow scrubbing the trees readying for spring. And yes, it feels like I’ve missed so many trips & really would take a train – anywhere! Thanks, Janice!
Thank you, Linda, for your comments. I’d love to see the mountains in Colorado!
That train poem reflects a joyful writer, grateful for what she has, and face turned toward future happiness. I love her attitude. Your suds and snow comparison is perfect. A new form of Spring cleaning. 🙂 Wishing you safe travels soon!
And safe travels to you!
Janice, your poem is lovely…the snow, like suds on hair and skin, washing clean. Really beautiful. And, it is especially beautiful after the Edna St. Millay poem. It’s perfect like her poem.
Thank you so much for you very kind comments. Stay well, Linda.
I’ve been thinking of travel. I doubt the trip to Scotland will happen because I want to be there in June. But the idea of travel is exciting.
I love the image of snow scrubbing the trees.
I was in Scotland, for two days, several years ago and would to see the northern part. My son hiked there once. But I agree summer would be the time. I hope you go next year.
O! Janice. You & Laura & Buffy make a great team with “Old Snow.” The imagery is exquisite & I imagine if the tree could say/write something about Buffy’s snow suds on it, it would be quite close to what you’ve expressed, if not the exact same.
And Jersey Shore? Another link we share. Once I accompanied my local newsgal Mom when she interviewed a famous birdwatcher at his family’s home near Cape May. Our shore had been Seaside Hgts, but Cape May’s grand dame Victorians were what popped up in my MG novel manuscript. Where is your seaside dream place there?
Happy happy weekend
~~Jan/Bookseedstudio
ps I share a favorite LOVE poems p.b. this week
Thanks for your lovely comment. As a kid my parents took us to Asbury Park, but I have been to Spring Lake fairly recently, invited by family, and would love to go back there. We rented bikes with baskets, and rode on the wide tree lined streets and walked on the boardwalk.
What a surprise in this poem to see the snow as suds, making everything clean and new. I read a great biography of Millay years ago — what a complicated person she was!
Thank you, Laura. These prompts have inspired me to write something new, which is the point, of course.
Janice,
Thanks for your poem as well as the one by Edna Millay. I can make many connections to both. Millay’s poem made me acknowledge my own craving for trips that I long for taking. The fact that it has a train whistle in it is remarkable because I started a poem Thursday night that featured the same – a train whistle in the distance. My husband and I hope to travel by fall for pleasure (in the U.S.). Secondly, your poem reminded me of snow we saw while visiting Rocky Mountain National Park in July. There was still some in the higher elevations despite the fact that it was summer! Thanks for your good thoughts at the end. Take Care!
I love Millay’s poetry, and yes, this one resonates with me, too. I am looking forward to travel again. I love your poem in response to Buffy’s photo–the idea of snow washing the winter dirt from the forest is lovely.
I love the train poem. I saw a television show about train journeys the other night, and said to my beloved how nice it would be to take a train trip. And now here’s this poem echoing my thoughts. Your snow poem too, makes clever use of metaphor. Thank you for your post.
When I first looked at the photo, I thought I was looking at soap suds, so your response to the prompt was perfect. 🙂 Love Edna St. Vincent Millay, too.
And I’m eagerly awaiting my vaccine. C’mon, Supply, let’s ramp up to meet Demand! 🙂
Love your poem and love Millay, too.
My husband, who is high risk due to medical conditions, has been trying very hard to get the vaccine b/c he is worried about getting COVID-19 at work. He has an appt to get his first shot next Sunday. He heard this morning that a co-worker has COVID. I hope we can manage to get through this last bit of the pandemic.
I feel exactly the same way as Edna St. Vincent Millay about trains! I love to hear them and wonder where they are going. It’s like Paul Simon’s song says: “Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance.”
Edna St. Vincent Millay is a favorite poet of mine. Thanks for sharing her “Travel” poem, she paints such a vivid image with her words, I’m ready to take off somewhere… And lovely image you created in your poem OLD SNOW, especially in these closing line,
“and scrub the forest
trees for spring. ”
We seem to be moving very slow in Illinois for vaccines, I hope perhaps I will get one by end of May at least… Thanks for all Janice!