And the poems were just as handsome!
The Wednesday Poets began when the Barton Public Library received a grant from the Vermont Council of the Humanities providing free copies of Poetry 180: A Turning Back to Poetry, an anthology by Billie Collins. Following an initial three sessions the group decided to keep writing together as long into autumn as they could and to begin again each following summer. Since the autumn of 2018, the group meets through the winter months as well.
Thursday, October 25, 2018
NEK Wednesday Poets on October 24, 2018
Wednesday, October 24, 2018
Mark Creaven from last summer, just found in a notebook
Mark handed this over a long time ago, just after a major illness. The photo is from last summer, when he was barely recuperating. He's fine now, as is this, without title:
It slowly crept up on the heart on me.
I can't remember when
I used to move so easily,
Just every now and then
A twinge a pull or maybe a tear,
A slowing down for just a while.
I still moved without a care.
But now each day brings a new pain,
A deeper more distracting thought,
A memory once held so dear now lost,
A skill once learned, now untaught.
So now the end stares me in the face.
As my spirit still tries to soar,
My body still calls to end the race.
Mark |
I can't remember when
I used to move so easily,
Just every now and then
A twinge a pull or maybe a tear,
A slowing down for just a while.
I still moved without a care.
But now each day brings a new pain,
A deeper more distracting thought,
A memory once held so dear now lost,
A skill once learned, now untaught.
So now the end stares me in the face.
As my spirit still tries to soar,
My body still calls to end the race.
Monday, October 22, 2018
Adrien Helm's poem for Sister Gail of the Green Mountain Monastery
Adrien Helm |
Sister Gail
Flower sprigged dress
Below lacy blue bolero,
Solid trim figure, pixie cap of curls and
those eyes --
those eyes --
Blue lanterns of pure light
Reading of Jesus
In green garden boots.
Our open mic nun
Setting a toe-tapping beat
In recalling childhood street
And soda can dancing.
A perfect last voice
In sunlit brick and wood
Cathedral of disparate songs.
You set our feet tapping
With perfect punctuation
To close our program --
Poetry and natural beauty
Our imperfection on display.
We couldn't help but smile
As you lifted our moody
Congregation to rollick with you.
*************************************************
Adrien Helm has co-led the Wednesday Poets for six years. She read us this poem after the group held a poetry reading session with open mic at the Green Mountain Monastery in Greensboro, down the road some 15 miles or so from Barton. Sister Gail of the monastery impressed her.
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