Friday, December 19, 2008

Poetry Friday

It has been cold--very, very cold--in Minnesota this week. I have lived my whole life here in the upper Midwest, so I know from cold. And since it has been so cold, I feel that I won’t be penalized for dipping back into Wallace Stevens’ catalog (Stevens is so versatile—poems about cold and poems about Florida):

The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

I’d also like to post one of Stephen Gammell’s wintery illustrations from Swing Around the Sun, but I’m not able to get at the files just now, so maybe next week.