Enga mellom fjella: where from across the meadow, poems sing from mountains and molehills. |
Onion for Brent Cebulla Some day you'll grow back, nourishing new skin, weaving a new cloak, layer upon layer. The winter will not chill you then. Once you left, shedding dead hide, peeling one layer at a time, tearing away the old that clung like memories. You sought the new as youngsters often do. "Someday you go back", scrawled in black on this old park bench where the green paint's peeled back to tree bone. One lonely omen. So, you write as writers often do growing from within, shedding useless skin, yet always rooted in the soil where you've been planted. © 2008 Kåre Enga [165.147] 2008-07-12 I spoke to weavers and a young man who was selling Camas, a local publication of prose and poetry at the farmer's market under the Higgins Street bridge over the Clark Fork River. We chatted and he mentioned that his surname is Polish for onion. I told him he might get a poem. After buying some feta cheese, I sat at a bench in Caras Park. "Some day you go back" was scrawled in black on bare wood. The poem flowed from these images. ME: Went to a reading and signing of Ripley Hugo's poetry at the home of Lois Welch up in the Rattlesnake. Very pretty area accessible by bus. I mentioned that I especially liked the poem where she mentions the Balm-of-Gilead (black poplar). I love the part: 3 On that summer evening we agreed your brother was old enough to go to bed later than you. he stood out in front of the cabin in his new boots for long minutes, and when I stood beside him, he told me, "I need to be way out here when dark comes. I need to see where the colors go." He meant, when colors go from the grass, from the stones, when they drown in the water, go somewhere they know but we don't. "I take them inside me," I said. He smiled, added softly, "And keep them for morning, I know." Ripley Hugo's book should be available on Amazon. A link to the publishers of "On the Right Wind": http://www.cedarhousebooks.org/right_wind.html Added 7/13: Ripley was married to Richard Hugo, who has influenced my group of 'letters/epistles'. She is getting on in years, so I was thrilled to hear her read. She's a native Montanan and her poems are grounded in the open landscape east of the mountains. Met Professor Sharma ... again. And the Alaskan couple I met a couple days ago was there too. Nice time visiting folks. Ripley Hugo reading her poetry: Montana: 70 something at 21:00 and warm. ** Image ID #1295354 Unavailable ** 6440 |