Just a couple of days ago, it was sunny and warm in Flagstaff…perfect weather for an outside poetry reading in a beautiful stone courtyard at the Museum of Northern Arizona. Jodie Hollander is the museum’s current poet in residence and this week’s Poetry Friday reader. Today, she treats us to a couple of poems from her latest collection, ‘My Dark Horses’.
Jodie Hollander:
Arriving in Flagstaff, the writing has just poured out in a way that it never has before. It’s been absolutely magical. It’s an incredible place to work. I think there’s something about the energy of this part of the country, combined with the deep, deep quiet of where the studio is situated. Just seeing deer out my window, seeing trees, seeing the mountains…I can start to sort of hear my poems as they want to be heard, and I have the sort of internal space to think.
So, this poem comes from a dream I had that I was giving birth to a goldfish.
“He’s”
He’s just about the size of a goldfish
And doesn’t even look like a child.
When did he arrive? I don’t remember.
The pain must have made me forget.
Anyway, now I have a son
That lives in my cupped together hands
In a small pool of water I think he needs.
I spend my hours closely watching him,
Nervous he’ll slip between my fingers
And vanish down some drain forever.
Or worse yet, he’ll try and swim away.
Each day he gets a little bigger
Til he no longer needs my hands.
I carry him around like a baby
Buy him PJ’s with yellow ducks
And little booties to keep his feet warm.
He smells like the sweetness of a baby
And smiles at me.
I cautiously smile back.
Now he’s growing faster by the hour,
And I can no longer handle the weight.
My arms start to tire.
I must tell him.
I put his soft cheek on mine and say,
‘He simply cannot grow any bigger.
He must promise me to always stay small
So that I know I can love him’.
Ok. I’m going to read ‘My Dark Horses’
If only I were more like my dark horses,
I wouldn’t have to worry all the time
That I was running too little
And resting too much.
I’d spend my hours grazing in the sunlight,
Taking long naps in the vast pastures.
And when it was time to move along
I’d know.
I’d spend some time with all those I’d loved,
Then disappear into a gathering of trees.
If only I were more like my dark horses,
I wouldn’t be so frightened of the storms.
Instead, when the clouds began to gather and fill,
I’d make my way calmly to the shed
And stand close to all the other horses.
Together we’d let the rain fall round us,
Knowing as darkness passes overhead,
That above all,
This is the time to be still.
Poetry Friday is produced by KNAU's Gillian Ferris. If you have an idea for a segment, drop her an email at Gillian.Ferris@nau.edu.
