Well, Maybe I do. I’m in the process of writing every poem I’ve ever saved in a word file into a notebook. My goal is to have an arsenal of great poems by my favorite poets which I can rip out of the notebook and give to people spontaneously. Beware, you may be the next victim of my poetic gifting.
This poem by Patricia Fargnoli is one I saved two summers ago from Garrison Keeler’s daily poety bulletin, The Writer’s Almanac. Patricia is a poet and retired psychotherapist/social worker, and was New Hampshire’s Laureate from December 2006 to March 2009. In a 2010 interview, she was asked if she has a particular audience in mind when she writes. She responded,” I am very conscious of communicating with an audience when I write…and thus want to be transparent, but also deep and crafted. My ideal readers are “townspeople” in the sense that they are ordinary people who will see themselves and their own worlds in what I write.”
Play and enjoy.
The Composer Says This is How We Should Live Our Lives
He lifts his violin and gives us the fox
in Ireland running with wild abandon
along the cliff-edge above the wild Irish Sea
and I am back in Connemara where even
the pasture stones have names and the green
slopes are plentiful with stones and the sea-wind
where there are no trees to stop it rollicks
across the commonage and the sea’s a wild rolling
and the composer’s brown hair is whipping around
his young intense face as his arm jigs and swings
the bow across the strings and his body is swaying
and his shoulders are leaping and the music is leaping
and the fox is running with such joy along that cliff
red fox brilliant green pasture cerulean sky
and the wind and the white-capped
plum-blue ocean and a man’s foot measuring time
in the sun that is beyond brilliant and the fox is leaping
forward along the cliff-edge.