Poetry Friday: Seriously, I Need Some Snow Already.
January 26th, 2007 by eisha
{Note: Head here at Chicken Spaghetti for this week’s Poetry Friday round-up} . . .
Winter has finally come to Massachusetts. Sort of. We’re finished with that weird, wrong, lingering balminess that made Christmas seem more surreal than festive. It’s really really really cold out there now. There’s what David Foster Wallace called a “true, religious-type wind” blowing around. But. January is almost over, and we haven’t even had a single inch of snow. Not one. A couple of flurries – that’s it.
I moved up here for snow. What the hell? Is it really just El Nino, or is this global warming? Have I seen the last of the serious, two-foot New England blizzards? Do I have to move to Saskatchewan? What is the point of single-digit temperatures with you-don’t-even-wanna-know wind chill factors if there’s NO SNOW?
Anyway, here’s a bit from a poem that pretty much sums up the weirdness: “A Winter Without Snow” by J.D. McClatchy.
For Emerson, a century ago and farther north,
Where the country has an ode’s jagged edges,
It was “frolic architecture.” Frozen blue-Print of extravagance, shapes of a shared life
Left knee-deep in transcendental drifts:
The isolate forms of snow are its hardest fact.Down here, the plain tercets of provision do,
Their picket snow-fence peeling, gritty,
Holding nothing back, nothing in, nothing at all.Down here, we’ve come to prefer the raw material
Of everyday and this year have kept an eye
On it, shriveling but still recognizable–A sight that disappoints even as it adds
A clearing second guess to winter.
You can read the rest here.
Thank you for pointing to this; it’s lovely. I love the line, “The whole state overcast with such particulars.” Nice.
We had the weird not snow here in Western NY up until last Friday, but we’re waking up to more snow every morning for a week now. It’s kind of nice, too. 🙂
I used to consider myself an active environmentalist, but now at the mere mention of the phrase “global warming,” because I have children, I want to put my fingers in my ears and say la-la-la-la-la I CAN’T HEAR YOU, not unlike a 4-year old. Utter denial, I tell ya. Denial.
But I digress. Another topic for an entirely different blog anyway.
Thanks for the poem, e. Good one.
Hola!
I just took a gander at the comment Jules left on The Brookeshelf. First, I have to say that your interview series is vair vair amusant. Second, I’m very happy to be on your list of interview-ees — and very flattered by the offer! Just let me know when you’ve gone that far down your list, and I’ll be there like shareware.
Ooh, Adrienne. More snow every day for a week. I should be so lucky.
I move out here to Boston from California, having never seen snow in my entire life, and what do I get? 16 inches the first winter, half that the next, this year nothing. “You’re not going to know what to do, you’ve never had to deal with any real weather before!” Pfft.
As for global warming my 8 year old, upon hearing that serious major effects are expected by the year 2050, said, “Oh, great, so then *I’ll* have to deal with it!” I think she said something similar when she heard about the Federal Budget Defecit recently.
It’s a crazy, upside down world.
Good poem for those of us in snowless-angst.
Here’s my yard last Friday:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/watat/sets/72157594494910091/
We had more snow last night, and it looks much the same today. My Godson is thrilled that he can finally build a snowman, and we’re also thinking of going out sledding. Might as well celebrate. 🙂
adrienne: That is so beautiful. I’m on my way. Get the cocoa on, and save a couple of sticks and some buttons or something for my snowman.
d elzey: They said the same thing to me when I moved up from TN, and I get laughed at all the time from real New Englanders who don’t get my unbridled snow enthusiasm. But your daughter kills me – talk about “from the mouths of babes.” Yikes.
Nancy: Thanks for the sympathy. Shared pain is easier to bear.
Adrienne, NO WAY. That is gorgeous.
I wanna just hang out with your daughter now, Elzey. Okay, that sounds stalkerish, but you know what I mean. She’s exactly right, too — hence, me wanting to bury my head in the sand. I gotta get over that.