TO WAKEN AN OLD LADY
—William Carlos Williams
Old age is
a flight of small
cheeping birds
skimming
bare trees
above a a snow glaze.
Gaining and failing
they are buffetted
by a dark wind—
But what?
On harsh weedstalks
the flock has rested,
the snow
is covered with broken
seedhusks
and the wind tempered
by a shrill
piping of plenty.
___________________
The old lady who calls herself Medusa will turn sixty in a few weeks, snakes, mood swings and all. Don't expect to be spared any of her angst; poems about aging will abound. Here is one from a north-valley poet:
HINDSIGHT
—Sally Allen McNall, Paradise
She was looking at her whole life.
This didn't feel voluntary, though she knew
death itself could be voluntary—as when
Mother died on her 96th birthday.
She herself noted a new willingness
to sleep in the daytime, and the waning
of certain appetites, for example, for change,
change which is human life.
She was looking at her whole life,
and now it seemed intolerable, the delays,
the fast and slow endings, the near and far
misses, but more than anything
the imagination's childish stubborn fondness
for a good story line. No question, she
herself would do it all again, and exactly,
without foresight as before, fear and sadness
slid quickly under each moment. But she
would beg like a dog, as before, waking
the whole house, demanding a plot,
recognition scenes, resolution, just as before.
And here was spring, with its tacky adorable
analogies and promises, no helpful narrative,
and here was the morning news again
of the usual random atrocities going on.
A rough stone, heaved into place in the lake
writes this, but also this, and then this,
touching, opening, opening us. She was looking
at her whole life, and would have to revise it again.
_____________________
Thanks, Sally! "Spring, with its tacky adorable analogies and promises, no helpful narrative..."
Sacramento Poet Laureate Julia Connor will read tonight at South Natomas Library on Truxel Road as part of the Urban Voices series, 6:30 pm. Or head down to the Central Library at 6:30 pm tonight to hear Julie Rivett, granddaughter of Dashiell Hammett, discuss The Maltese Falcon in the West Meeting Room, 828 I St., Sac. She will also talk about the traveling Maltese Falcon exhibit on display in the library through Jan. 29. Info: 916-264-2920.
Poets Laureate abound, in fact! A week from Friday, on the 27th, San Francisco Poet Laureate Jack Hirschman will read with Agneta Falk at the Art Foundry Gallery, 1021 R St., Sac., 8 pm. Refreshments; $5 contribution requested. This reading is made possible in part through a grant from Poets & Writers, Inc. Info: www.breitpoet.com/foundry.html.
And that same night (1/27), the Nevada County Poetry Series presents California's new Poet Laureate, Al Young, and the Inkwell student writers from the Nevada Union High School. Tickets can be purchased in Grass Valley in advance at Odyssey Books, The Book Seller and Cherry Records ($8 general, seniors and students, and $2 for those under 18) or at the door ($10 and $3). Refreshments included. The show will be in the Main Theater at the Center for the Arts, 314 W. Main St., Grass Valley, CA. For more information call (530) 432-8196 or (530) 274-8384.
Well, okay. This aging thing is fatal, but not serious:
MIRROR MIRROR
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones, Tehama
Mirror bright mirror on the wall
I'm not the fairest of them all
Thankful enough to be here this day
I'll take my wrinkles out to play
And when the men look right through my skin
I'll just be glad for the shape I'm in
Being invisible has its plus side
I can do anything nothing to hide
So mirror mirror do your worst
When fun is calling I'll be there first
____________________
Thanks, Pat!
—Medusa (mood swings and all)
Medusa encourages poets of all ilk and ages to send their poetry and announcements of Northern California poetry events to kathykieth@hotmail.com for posting on this daily Snake blog. Rights remain with the poets. Previously-published poems are okay for Medusa’s Kitchen, as long as you own the rights. (Please cite publication.)