Her sister finds a secret drawer
filled with lifelines cast
out into depths and birdsong, more
poignant for its sweet, steadfast
audacity. Who knew this shore
was a port where mists might last
beyond this moment's telling for
days, for futures, present, past ...
this piece is a modest tribute to and remembrance of the poet, Emily Dickenson, whose work has been getting some recent attention with the release of new biographical material. Billy Collins, a U.S. poet laureate, and a Dickenson scholar, has whimsically proclaimed that Dickenson's poems can be sung to the tune of The Yellow Rose of Texas due to the syllable counts and rhythms she employed in most of her writing. I thought it might work as a quirky title as well.
ReplyDeleteDamned if he ain't right. and I can't sing.
ReplyDeleteYou were correct, good title, but I need to point out that they can also be sung to the tune of, Please Mr. Custer, I don't Want to Go...circa 1960. Oh, and Punch is right...he can't sing.
ReplyDeleteJadedj-- I'm not sure I needed to know that, but now that I do, I will have two tunes that I could have done without..... thanks for the visit and for the confirmation on the vocal talents of Punch.
ReplyDeletePunch-- damned if he ain't! that was my response as well once I went and tried it out. I 'm sure you have other talents .... :)