Sunday, 27 January 2013

poetry


I have just 'discovered' the amazing poet Hayden Carruth (1921-2008) and want to post so many of his poems, but I won't (at least not today) and after having read a couple of his poems I found this site the poetryarchive with this all important quote:

'My poems, I think, exist in a tension between the love of natural beauty and the fear of natural meaninglessness or absurdity.' Yes!

Living as we do in the countryside, we're close to the wildlife, rats and roedeer, pheasants, hares and mice, foxes, hedgehogs, toads.......So here's a word from Hayden Carruth on embracing them:


Little Citizen, Little Survivor
A brown rat has taken up residence with me.
A little brown rat with pinkish ears and lovely
almond-shaped eyes. He and his wife live
in the woodpile by my back door, and they are
so equal I cannot tell which is which when they
poke their noses out of the crevices among
the sticks of firewood and then venture farther
in search of sunflower seeds spilled from the feeder.
I can’t tell you, my friend, how glad I am to see them.
I haven’t seen a fox for years, or a mink, or
a fisher cat, or an eagle, or a porcupine, I haven’t
seen any of my old company of the woods
and the fields, we who used to live in such
close affection and admiration. Well, I remember
when the coons would tap on my window, when
the ravens would speak to me from the edge of their
little precipice. Where are they now? Everyone knows.
Gone. Scattered in this terrible dispersal. But at least
the brown rat that most people so revile and fear
and castigate has brought his wife to live with me
again. Welcome, little citizen, little survivor.
Lend me your presence, and I will lend you mine.
from Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey, Copper Canyon Press, 1996 
I found this poem here: tuesday poem

detail, rat and toad go for a stroll



2 comments:

grace Forrest~Maestas said...

saskia...i love this.
i read the words, little citizen
and i feel like that.
i am a little citizen.
what a beautiful Man he is.
and maybe like the bird king.

saskia said...

Grace: the old poet as the bird king, I like that. we are not just ourselves, but all other beings as well, in a manner of speaking....

I've ordered two of his books and look forward to reading more of his words.