Sunday, February 12, 2017
"The Institutions have not thus far restrained him"
I had a fine time at the AWP Conference; went to some thought-provoking panels and readings, and met many of my poet friends there.
One panel was a tribute to the poet Dave Smith. I didn't know his work at all; my friend Kate Daniels was on the panel, which is why I went, but learning about this poet and his work was a great gift to me. Tomorrow I plan to post a poem of his, but today
I am cutting and pasting an interview I read on the page of one of my Facebook friends:
"We have at most a year to defend American democracy, perhaps less“
"Timothy Snyder is a professor of history at Yale University and the author of numerous books of European history, including „Bloodlands“ and „Black Earth“. His most recent book, “On Tyranny: Twenty Lessons from the Twentieth Century“, will be published at the end of the month. This is the English version of an interview published in Süddeutsche Zeitung on February 7, with some additional information due to current developments. "
By Matthias Kolb
SZ: Donald Trump has been president for three weeks. How would you describe his start?
Timothy Snyder: The first thing that we have to notice is that the institutions have not thus far restrained him. He never took them seriously, acts as if they don’t exist, and clearly wishes they didn’t. The story that Americans have told themselves from the moment he declared his candidacy for president, was that one institution or another would defeat him or at least change his behavior – he won’t get the nomination; if he gets the nomination, he will be a normal Republican; he will get defeated in the general election; if he wins the presidency will mature him (that was what Obama said). I never thought any of that was true. He doesn’t seem to care about the institutions and the laws except insofar as they appear as barriers to the goal of permanent kleptocratic authoritarianism and immediate personal gratification. It is all about him all of time, it is not about the citizens and our political traditions.
You wrote an article for Slate in November, comparing the rise of Donald Trump with the rise of Adolf Hitler. Why did you feel the need to publish such a piece?
It’s very important that we use history to our advantage now, rather than finding in history taboos and ways to silence one another. The history of the 1930s is terribly important to Americans (and Europeans) right now, just as it is slipping from our memories. I was not trying to provoke one more fruitless series of conversations about comparability. I was trying to help Americans who were generally either shocked (people who voted against Trump) or surprised (people who voted for him, who generally thought he would lose) find their bearings in a new situation. The temptation in a new situation is to imagine that nothing has changed. That is a choice that has political consequences: self-delusion leads to half-conscious anticipatory obedience and then to regime change. Anyway, I didn’t actually compare Trump to Hitler, I didn’t use these two names. What I did was to write a very short history of the rise of Adolf Hitler to power without using his name, which might allow Americans to recognize certain similarities to the moment they themselves were living through. I know that these comparisons are a national taboo in Germany, but at the moment its rather important that Germans be generous with their history and help others to learn how republics collapse. Most Americans are exceptionalists, we think we live outside of history. Americans tend to think: “We have freedom because we love freedom, we love freedom because we are free.” It is a bit circular and doesn’t acknowledge the historical structures that can favor or weaken democratic republics. We don’t realize how similar our predicaments are to those of other people.
You use the Weimar Republic as a warning example.
I wanted to remind my fellow Americans that intelligent people, not so different from ourselves, have experienced the collapse of a republic before. It is one example among many. Republics, like other forms of government, exist in history and can rise and fall. The American Founding Fathers knew this, which is why there were obsessed with the history of classical republics and their decline into oligarchy and empire. We seem to have lost that tradition of learning from others, and we need it back. A quarter century ago, after the collapse of communism, we declared that history was over – and in an amazing way we forgot everything we once knew about communism, fascism and National Socialism. In this little article for Slate, I was trying to remind us about things that we once knew.
How similar is the situation between Germany of the 1930s and today’s United States?
Of course, not everything is similar. Some things are better now than they were in the 1930s but some things are worse. The media is worse, I would say. It is very polarized and it is very concentrated. In Germany before the state shut down German newspapers, there was authentic variety that we don’t have now. People in the 1930s generally had longer attention spans than we do. On the other side, the United States is a larger country, with pockets of wealth distributed widely, and it is more connected to the world. The main advantage that we have is that we can learn from the 1930s. Again, it’s very important to stress that history does not repeat. But it does offer us examples and patterns, and thereby enlarges our imaginations and creates more possibilities for anticipation and resistance.
When did you realize this lack of knowledge about 20th century history here in the US?
I got an early hint of that when I was touring the United States for my book “Bloodlands: Europe Between Hitler and Stalin”. This was in 2011 and I realized that Americans had really forgotten about the crimes of Stalin – which is strange because we were educated, during the Cold War about Stalinist terror. I thought that Americans would be surprised because I was saying that number of Soviet citizens killed (although still horrifyingly large) was much smaller than we had been taught. Instead I realized that Americans had simply forgotten that there was Stalinism and terror. That struck me: What else could we forget? The idea of the Holocaust is certainly present, but it is almost totally lacking in context. And without context it is hard to see resemblance. A Holocaust that is reduced to a few images or facts cannot teach about larger patterns. And Americans risk of stressing its uniqueness is that it allows people to dismiss any learning from history. People will ask: Is he wearing a Hakenkreuz, did he kill six million Jews? if the answer is in the negative, then they will reply: then history has nothing to do with the present. Over the last 25 years, we have not only forgotten much of what we once knew but we have raised a whole generation which doesn’t have these reference points.
You would argue that this knowledge had existed before but it was forgotten.
Scholars knew much more know about the 1930s – whether we are speaking of National Socialism, fascism, or Stalinism. But publics are much less interested. And we lack, for whatever reason, the concepts that we used to have that allowed us to connect ideas and political processes. When an American president says “America First” or proposes a political system without the two parties or attacks journalists or denies the existence of facts, that should set of a series of associations with other political systems. We need people who can help translate ideological utterances into political warnings. Thinkers of the middle of twentieth century are now being read again, and for good reason. The American canon included native and refugee ex-communists who came to this country of the 1930s, refugees from fascism and National Socialism in the 40s, and the Cold War liberals of the 1950s. There was this time where we engaged in political theory and history, where people thought about what fascism and communism meant for democracy. Now, one reason why we cannot forget the 1930s is that the presidential administration is clearly thinking about them – but in a positive sense. They seem to be after a kind of redo of the 1930s with Roosevelt where the Americans take a different course. where we don’t build a welfare state and don’t intervene in Europe to stop fascism. Lindbergh instead of FDR. That is their notion. Something went wrong with Roosevelt and now they want to go back and reverse it.
President Trump’s political strategist, Steve Bannon, has said that he wants to „make life as exciting as it was in the 1930s“. The first two weeks have shown how big his influence is, it seems much bigger than Reince Priebus’s or Jared Kushner’s.
I can’t speak to intra-White House conflicts. I can only say that Mr. Trump’s inaugural address was extremely ideological. During the campaign he used the slogan “America First” and then was informed that this was the name of a movement that tried to prevent the United States from fighting Nazi Germany and was associated with nativists and white supremacists. He claimed then not to have known that. But in the inaugural address he made “America First” his central theme, and now he can’t say that he doesn’t know what it means. And of course Bannon knows what it means. America First is precisely the conjuration of this alternative America of the 1930s where Charles Lindbergh is the hero. This inaugural address reeked of the 1930s.
When Bannon calls himself a „Leninist“, do Americans know what is he talking about?
No, they usually have no idea. It is a good question. Americans have this idea that comes from Jefferson and the American Revolution that you have to rebel every so often. And they sometimes don’t make the distinction between a rebellion against injustice and the extinction of the whole political system, which is what Bannon says that he is after. The American Revolution actually preserved ideas from Britain: the rule of law being the most important. The whole justification of the American Revolution was that the British were not living up to their own principles, were not including Americans in their own system. In a broad way that that was also the argument of the civil rights movement: the system fails itself when it does not extend equal rghts to all citizens. So there can be resistance and even revoution which is about meeting standards rather than about simple destruction. What Bannon says correctly about the Bolsheviks was that they aimed to completely destroy an old regime. We can slip from one to the other very easily, from rebelliousness to a complete negation of the system. Most Americans had a rule of law state for most of their lives, African Americans are an exception, and so most Americans think this will be there forever. They don’t get that a “disruption” can actually destroy much of what they take for granted. They have no notion what it means to destroy the state and how their lives would look like if the rule of law would no longer exist. I find it frightening that people who talk about the destruction of the American state are now in charge of the American state.
Trump put a portrait of Andrew Jackson on the wall of the Oval Office, another president that was a populist. But people around him seem to have a wider agenda.
In the same interview with the Hollywood Reporter in which Bannon talks about the “exciting 1930s”, he talks about how he is operating in the darkness. He compares himself with Satan and Darth Vader and says in essence that he misleads the public and the media deliberately.
The White House statement for the Holocaust Day on January 27 didn’t mention Jews. At first it looked like a mistake but now it is official that it was intentional.
The Holocaust reference is very important on our side of the Atlantic. If Americans have a reference point in world history, it is precisely the Holocaust, the Holocaust and let’s say Normandy, the Second World War, are the one aperture into a broader history, one where republics fall and extremes triumph. So if Steve Bannon turns the Holocaust into talk about “A lot of people have suffered” what is happening is that he is closing that aperture. The next step is to say that mainly Americans are the victims. History then dies completely and we are trapped in myth.
Which are the differences in how Germans and Americans remember the Holocaust?
Let me answer this in a different way. Normally when I speak to German journalists, I try to emphasize parts of the history of the Holocaust that Germans overlook or minimize, and how those can allow Germans to overlook certain kinds of historical responsibility or draw lessons that are too narrow. In the United States it is obviously very different. It is not a matter of taking a debate about national responsibility and try to make it broader by making it more inclusive of what we know about the historical Holocaust. It is rather a matter of how a distant non-German nation can try to see patterns, analogies, political lessons. And right now the comparison we need to ponder is between the treatment of Muslims and the treatment of Jews. It is obviously the case that the point of the Muslim ban is to instruct Americans that Muslims are an enemy: a small, well-assimilated minority that we are supposed to see not as our neighbors or as fellow citizens but as elements of an international threat. More than that, Trump’s policy is a provocation, which is probably meant to provoke an event like the assassination of the German diplomat Ernst Eduard vom Rath on November 7 1938.
When Bannon calls the press the main „opposition party“ that should make everyone concerned. This is not only intended to cheer up Trump supporters.
When you say that the press is the opposition, than you are advocating a regime change in the United States. When I am a Republican and say the Democrats are the opposition, we talk about our system. If I say the government is one party and the press is the opposition, then I talk about an authoritarian state. This is regime change.
Last week Trump called those who take part in demonstrations “thugs” and “paid protestors”. This doesn’t show respect for First Amendment right, it sounds more like Putin.
That is exactly what the Russian leadership does. The idea is to marginalize the people who actually represent the core values of the Republic. The point is to bring down the Republic. You can disagree with them. but once you say they have no right to protest or start lying about them, you are in effect saying: „We want a regime where this is not possible anymore.“ When the president says that it means that the executive branch is engaged in regime change towards an authoritarian regime without the rule of law. You are getting people used to this transition, you are inviting them into the process by asking them to have contempt for their fellow citizens who are defending the Republic. You are also seducing people into a world of permanent internet lying and way from their own experiences with other people. Getting out to protest, this is something real and I would say something patriotic. Part of the new authoritarianism is to get people to prefer fiction and inaction to reality and action. People sit in their chairs, read the tweet and repeat the clichés: “yes, they are thugs” instead of “it is normal to get out in the streets for what you believe.” He is trying to teach people a new behavior: You just sit right where you are, read what I say and nod your head. That is the psychology of regime change.
Today’s media environment is very different from the 1930s, everything happens so fast.
This is part of what contemporary authoritarians do: They overwhelm you with bad news and try to make you depressed and say with resignation: “Well, what can i do?”. I think it is better to limit yourself. Read the news for half an hour a day, but don’t spend the whole day obsessing about it. Americans have to pick one thing to be confident about, and then act on it. If you care about and know about refugees, the press, global warming – choose one and talk with people around you about it. Nobody can do everything but everyone can do a little bit. And people doing their little bit will meet others doing the same, and the depression lifts.
You posted „20 lessons from the 20th century“ on your Facebook page in November. Did your students here at Yale ask for advice?
No, that wasn’t it. It was unprompted, I was in Scandinavia during the election. I thought Trump would lose, that it would be close but he would lose. On the plane on the way back I started thinking about what we could learn from history. When I had written about Trump earlier in 2016, it was about his connections to Russia. The twenty lessons was the first attempt to bring something I understand about European history to my fellow Americans in a way that is politically salient. I don’t usually write directly about American politics; I am an American but insofar as I have something to offer it is rather because I know something about contemporary and historical Eastern and Central Europe. Nobody asked me, but this was a way for me to start acting. We have to do something. This is what I can do.
„Do not obey in advance“ is the first recommendation in this Facebook post. You also reference the „Reichstagsbrand“ as a warning sign. How should the American public react?
Americans love to use the word “playbook” which is a metaphor from sports. There is a playbook from the 1930s that some people in the presidential administration are following. This includes picking a minority in your country, associate it with a global threat and use the notion of a global struggle as a way to create national solidarity while neglecting the nation’s actual problems. The Reichstag Fire is the crucial moment when Hitler’s government becomes a Nazi regime. An event of that type, whether unexpected, provoked, or planned by the government, can be a turning point in the United States today. This goes back to the beginning of our conversation: if we think about the 1930s, then we can be aware of events, and of certain forks in the road. If a terror attack happens in the United States, that is simply the Trump administration failing to keep its most basic promise. It is not a reason to suspend the rights of Americans or declare have a state of emergency. History teaches us the tricks of authoritarians. We can’t allow ourselves to fall for them.
There were a lot of demonstrations in hundreds of cities, but the opinion of Trump supporters haven’t changed. They are not moved by the huge crowds. Would this be too early to expect?
These are two different things. With something like the Muslim ban, it is important a lot of people react very quickly because if the government can slice off one group, it can do the same to others. This is a political logic that requires quick action rather than waiting for public opinion polls. Americans were actually better than Germans, they got out right away. Some Americans do seem understand the logic, they move quickly. So the airport protests are not in the first instance about communicating with the Trump supporters; they about making clear to the administration that we recognize what you are doing and that we oppose this logic. Indirectly, the protests communicate to the majority that there are two siides t the issue, and that they should think for themselves. Communicating with Trump supporters is different. You have to have people out, waving flags and describing themselves as patriots, even as they decry and resist particular policies. It is important for people to consider that authoritarianism, though it claims all the national symbols, is not patriotism. Over time, protests that are for a better America are important to change minds and swing over Republicans – and I should say that I have already seen a number of Republicans whom I know personally in the protests. It needs time, this is more about six months or one year. They just elected him three months ago, for now there is still the frame in place that that he will change everything and improve their lives, other things can seem like details so long as this basic hope remains. It might take a while for people to realize that making America into a Trump family welfare state is not in the interest of Americans whose name is not Trump. One of the main problems is the internet and the polarization and simple unreality that it generates. it is important to talk about these issues in person, I have a little book called “On tyranny” and I will do my best to talk about it with people who think in various ways about politics.
We are here in New Haven, a liberal bubble. Do you encourage your students to do that?
They are doing it. An undergraduate who is from New York took the train all they way to the southwest, just to talk to passengers. Young people have to do that. The risk is that they shift from taking freedom for granted to taking unfreedom for granted, without realizing that it is precisely their choice and their voice that can make the difference. And keep in mind that these conversations can create common ground. Some of the reasons some people voted for Trump make sense. You simply dismiss all of them according to your own stereotypes. It is not always as simple as the East Coast people will tell you. Trump has unleashed public racism of a kind we have not seen for decades. That is true. This racism in turn releases energies that can change the whole system. Also true. But at the same time, he would not be president without white people in crucial states who voted for Obama twice. So you can’t simply dismiss all of these people as racists, because in some cases their votes also brought us our first black president. A lot of Trump voters would have voted for Bernie Sanders, who is a Jewish socialist. There are problems and that have to do with globalization and inequality that can’t be wished away. Maybe not every citizen can articulate these problems in the best way, but many voters have good reasons to be worried about globalization. Hillary Clinton did have actual policies that would have helped – that’s the tragedy. But she wasn’t able to communicate that she understood the problem.
On Facebook there are a lot of countdowns: 3 years, 11 months, 1 week until President Trump’s first term is over. How is your mood, do you see hope?
The marches were very encouraging. These were quite possibly the largest demonstrations in the history of the US, just in sheer numbers on one single day. That sort of initiative has to continue. The constitution is worth saving, the rule of law is worth saving, democracy is worth saving, but these things can and will be lost if everyone waits around for someone else. If we want encouragement out of the Oval Office, we will not get it. We are not getting encouragement thus far from Republicans. They have good reasons to defend the republic but thus far they are not doing so, with a few exceptions. You want to end on a positive note, I know; but I think things have tightened up very fast, we have at most a year to defend the Republic, perhaps less. What happens in the next few weeks is very important.
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
Off to AWP
That acronym stands for "Association of Writers and Writing Programs" and its national conference is in Washington DC this year. So I am going!
This will only be the third time I have gone to this enormous conference; I only go if it's in driving distance. I went to New York in 2008; to DC in 2011, and this year. Probably I will never go again, because the next few are in far distant cities, and I am getting too old as well.
About 12,000 writers have registered to come to the one this year!
Here is a photo from a recent conference. This is the enormous Bookfair:
I'm going because it's an opportunity to hear some wonderful readings and panels. Even more, it's an opportunity to visit with writer friends I see rarely. Thanks to Facebook, there are also "Facebook Friends" I have never met, but with whom I correspond, who are coming.
Some of them, both old friends and Facebook friends:
Diane Lockward
Emilia Phillips
Kate Daniels
Laura Shovan
Gerry Cambridge
Gerry La Femina
April Lindner
Grace Cavalieri
Robert Lee Brewer
Rosemary Winslow
Susan Elbe
Kim Becker
Luke Stromberg
Marie-Elizabeth Mali
Maryann Corbett
Jon Tribble
Jane Satterfield
Allison Joseph
Ned Balbo
Mike Maggio
Sid Gold
Sam Gwynn
Valerie Fox
Joseph Ross
Kim Bridgford
to name a few!
Sunday, January 29, 2017
I can't twist the truth ; it knows no regulation.
Look at how young he is. Now he is 82, and, according to Wikipedia, still singing.
This song was written in mid-1964 by R.L. Sloan, and Barry McGuire recorded it in 1965.
Many things are different, but to me, the aura? miasma? what's the word I want? is the same.
"Eve Of Destruction"
The eastern world it is exploding
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill but not for votin'
You don't believe in war but whats that gun you're totin'?
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'
But you tell me
Over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Don't you understand what I'm tryin' to say
Can't you feel the fears I'm feelin' today?
If the button is pushed, there's no runnin' away
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave
Take a look around you boy, it's bound to scare you boy
Violence flarin', bullets loadin'
You're old enough to kill but not for votin'
You don't believe in war but whats that gun you're totin'?
And even the Jordan River has bodies floatin'
But you tell me
Over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Don't you understand what I'm tryin' to say
Can't you feel the fears I'm feelin' today?
If the button is pushed, there's no runnin' away
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave
Take a look around you boy, it's bound to scare you boy
And you tell me
Over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Yeah my blood's so mad feels like coagulating
I'm sitting here just contemplatin'
I can't twist the truth it knows no regulation
Handful of senators don't pass legislation
And marches alone can't bring integration
When human respect is disintegratin'
This whole crazy world is just too frustratin'
And you tell me
Over and over and over again my friend
Ah, you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Think of all the hate there is in Red China
Then take a look around to Selma, Alabama
You may leave here for four days in space
But when you return it's the same old place
The pounding of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead but don't leave a trace
Hate your next door neighbor but don't forget to say grace
And tell me
Over and over and over and over again my friend
You don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Mmm, no, no, you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Saturday, January 28, 2017
The Rhyme of History
Once again, I am teaching Modernity in Literature. At this point, our class is learning about World War I by reading the World War I poets and also some very good essays about the time of the war.
We just considered Philip Larkin's 1960 poem "MCMXIV" in which he describes the line of young men waiting to sign up to fight in the war. That's where the photo comes in. No one then had a clue that the war would last four terrible years, would kill 10 million British soldiers, and would change everyone's view of the world.
One of the essays I assigned was written one hundred years after the beginning of World War I, in 2013, by Margaret Macmillan. She called her essay "The Rhyme of History" after an observation by Mark Twain:
History never repeats itself, but it rhymes.
That really struck me. She goes on to comment:
The
past cannot provide us with clear blueprints for how to act, for it offers such
a multitude of lessons that it leaves us free to pick and choose among them to
suit our own political and ideological inclinations. Still, if we can see past
our blinders and take note of the telling parallels between then and now, the
ways in which our world resembles that of a hundred years ago, history does
give us valuable warnings.
Much of what she says about the first seven months of 1914 made me think about our present situation. It's certainly not the same, but I think it does rhyme:More quotes from her essay:
...The decades leading up to 1914 were, like our own time, a period of dramatic shifts and upheavals, which those who experienced them thought of as unprecedented in speed and scale.
and
...Then, as now, there was a huge expansion in global trade and investment. And then as now waves of immigrants were finding their way to foreign lands—Indians to the Caribbean and Africa, Japanese and Chinese to North America, and millions of Europeans to the New World and the Antipodes.
and
...What they failed to see was the downside of interdependence. In Europe a hundred years ago the landowning classes saw their prosperity undermined by cheap agricultural imports from abroad and their dominance over much of society undercut by a rising middle class and a new urban plutocracy. As a result, many of the old upper classes flocked to conservative, even reactionary, political movements. In the cities, artisans and small shopkeepers whose services were no longer needed were also drawn to radical right-wing movements. Anti-Semitism flourished as Jews were made the scapegoat for the march of capitalism and the modern world.
The world is witnessing unsettling parallels today. Across Europe and North America, radical right-wing movements like the British National Party and the Tea Party provide outlets for the frustration and fears that many feel as the world changes around them and the jobs and security they had counted on disappear. Certain immigrants—such as Muslims—come to stand in as the enemy in some communities.
and
...Globalization can also have the paradoxical effect of fostering intense localism and nativism, frightening people into taking refuge in the comfort of small, like-minded groups. One of the unexpected results of the Internet, for example, is how it can narrow horizons so that users seek out only those whose views echo their own and avoid websites that might challenge their assumptions.
Globalization also makes possible the widespread transmission of radical ideologies and the bringing together of fanatics who will stop at nothing in their quest for the perfect society. In the period before World War I, anarchists and revolutionary socialists across Europe and North America read the same works and had the same aim: to overthrow the existing social order.
I could go on. The essay is complex and thought-provoking. She's concerned about the tense relationship between the US and China, but in the four years since the essay was written, it is Russia and Putin who have emerged as more of a threat... not to mention ISIS . And, of course,
Donald Trump.
Mikhail Gorbachev: 'It All Looks as if the World Is Preparing for War'
That headline appeared in Time Magazine over a January 26 essay by the former leader of the Soviet Union.
While I am teaching about Great Britain and Europe in the first three decades of the twentieth century, I can't help wondering if the citizens of our own country ( myself included) are blithely bumbling along in our comfort zone, unaware of what could be looming ahead.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
On the Eve of the Inauguration of the 45th President of the United States
They're getting ready for it, but I don't plan on watching it. I also don't plan on marching in any of the Women's protest marches. It's just too much for me.
If you would have told me fifty years ago that this man would be a president of the United States, I would have laughed in your face. But he is. And his congress is going to dismantle every liberal endeavor from the last fifty years, and many even longer.
I am glad I am as old as I am. I won't live long enough to see the complete unfolding of this disaster.
So instead, I go to bed early, pushing each day forward. I rejoice in the lengthening light,
and I long for Spring to set the perennials in my garden bursting out.
I long for the birds to come back in their glorious mating colors, and their mating songs.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
Let me hear your voice
Another month gone.
Really, I did almost nothing during these four weeks except prepare my class for the second semester, and that didn't take all my time.
I whiled away the hours listening to all of the Simon Serrallier detective stories I have already listened to, and enjoyed them even more this time.
Actually, I did do a few things.
I went for my annual "full body check" at the dermatologist's, and she located another basal cell carcinoma - a smaller one than last year. This one was just below my left ear. So right after New Years, I went back and the doctor excised it, leaving a scar and about ten stitches. It looked bad at first, but now it is hardly visible. More damage from my days in the sun.
I also went to the ear doctor, to have my hearing checked. I knew I had hearing loss; could tell by the things I couldn't hear my students saying in a class discussion. Sure enough, I scored on the "Moderate to severe" for both ears. So she fitted me with hearing aids. I decided on the "top of the line," the ones that cancel out background noise and that basically have a mind of their own. Their little computerized batteries recharge overnight when I place them in their docking station!
Really, I did almost nothing during these four weeks except prepare my class for the second semester, and that didn't take all my time.
I whiled away the hours listening to all of the Simon Serrallier detective stories I have already listened to, and enjoyed them even more this time.
Actually, I did do a few things.
I went for my annual "full body check" at the dermatologist's, and she located another basal cell carcinoma - a smaller one than last year. This one was just below my left ear. So right after New Years, I went back and the doctor excised it, leaving a scar and about ten stitches. It looked bad at first, but now it is hardly visible. More damage from my days in the sun.
I also went to the ear doctor, to have my hearing checked. I knew I had hearing loss; could tell by the things I couldn't hear my students saying in a class discussion. Sure enough, I scored on the "Moderate to severe" for both ears. So she fitted me with hearing aids. I decided on the "top of the line," the ones that cancel out background noise and that basically have a mind of their own. Their little computerized batteries recharge overnight when I place them in their docking station!
can't see it when it's in.
the little docking station.
Ironically, I am the youngest sister in my local community, but the only one with hearing aids. Not that the others have such good hearing; they just can't admit it to themselves.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Our calm hearts strike only the hour
Woman inside Bird by Yuko Hosaka
My heart is not calm, but the prompt on the "Daily Post" page is the word "calm."
I found this wonderful poem by Jane Kenyon, and had to post it on this page, too:
Notes from the Other Side
By Jane Kenyon, 1947 - 1995
I divested myself of
despair
and fear when I came here.
Now there is no more
catching
one’s own eye in the
mirror,
there are no bad books, no
plastic,
no insurance premiums, and
of course
no illness. Contrition
does not exist, nor
gnashing
of teeth. No one howls as
the first
clod of earth hits the
casket.
The poor we no longer have
with us.
Our calm hearts strike
only the hour,
and God, as promised,
proves
to be mercy clothed in
light.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
The Darkest Evening of the Year
5:10 PM Eastern Standard Time in the Mid-Atlantic region of the USA... gorgeous peach and strawberry colored sunset.
I feel that the year is turning toward the light after this night. I hope my country is , too, and the rest of the world.
I've been posting on the Wordpress blog of this same name, but those entries are very impersonal. They are mostly poems and pictures responding to the Daily Prompt. But they are still good poems.
I've been preoccupied with endings.
It seems that so much of what I have been involved with in my adult life has either closed, ended, or is about to. My beloved college, which closed in 1973... but the places where I taught: Saint Luke's Elementary School, Seton High School, and now, Seton Keough High School. At least my own alma maters, Saint Agnes Elementary in West Chester, and Bishop Shanahan High, are still alive and flourishing. But I am also thinking about my religious community. Three of our youngest members left the community in September and October. True, two new members joined us, but it's nothing to compare with the forty something women who left this earth for their eternal home. You don't replace forty with two.
My friend and fellow artist, Sister Janet Gildea from the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati, wrote a compelling entry in her blog about this topic: she called it "Completion." Reading her thoughts concretized my own thoughts. Among other things, she said:
"...Now there are only three Sisters of Charity in the city. It takes no stretch of the imagination to realize that soon there will be none. What heartache! In my mind, I counted the remaining SCs in the cities "up the line" from Albuquerque to Denver: fewer than 20. Behind the driver's seat we carried a large wood-carved statue of St. Francis from Catholic Charities in Albuquerque honoring the ministries of our sisters. I honored them in my heart, remembering so many stories they shared with me when I came to New Mexico just after first vows in 1986. I love our history here in the Southwest and I am grateful that I was able to experience the years of its completion.
...St. Joseph Sr. Carol Zinn (SSJ) used that word "completion" in her remarks to the Resource Center for Religious Institutes, saying that it is not a question of "if" but "when" congregations in Europe, North America and Australia will complete their stories.
She is hopeful, though:
"...What new "expression of religious life," as Zinn said, will meet the demands of ministry not just today but tomorrow? Who knows? I believe that our newest members have the eyes for those horizons. Reading even a few recent titles from GSR's Horizons writers gives a sense of what they see: "A crash course in organizing: Overcoming fear," "Building soil, cultivating peace," "A consistent ethic of life is as relevant now as it was 30 years ago," "I don't know black," "Living, loving and leading in fog," and "An experiment in hope." These young sisters are expressing how consecrated life will evolve. When they come, they may be new to the culture of congregation and even cultural Catholicism but they are often well-equipped with skills for collaboration, networking, appreciating diversity, community living, sustainability, and, of course, technology. And they are quick learners...
But...
"We readily acknowledge that we live in the tension between what is and what is not yet. Most congregations have set processes in motion for the transition of sponsored ministries, stewardship of resources, and care of the elders. We have all known the delicacy of convening gatherings of those sisters of a certain chronological age to have the critical conversations about the future. We have worked so diligently towards inclusion and consensus that we can hardly consider a process that leaves anyone out. I wonder, though, if this is somehow a way that we resist the inevitable completion that Carol Zinn dares to name."
Maybe these thoughts are coming because of my age. Such an increase in the number of people I know/knew who have crossed to the other side...
And then I get to thinking that my own nation is facing its end... the end of representative democracy as we knew it... the end of its position as
"leader of the free world..." Not to mention the end of its beautiful environment. The end of Robins and oak trees, of clean rivers and streams...
In the language of my Boomer generation , this blog entry is a downer.
Readers, you probably gave up reading to the end of it several paragraphs ago.
I feel that the year is turning toward the light after this night. I hope my country is , too, and the rest of the world.
I've been posting on the Wordpress blog of this same name, but those entries are very impersonal. They are mostly poems and pictures responding to the Daily Prompt. But they are still good poems.
I've been preoccupied with endings.
It seems that so much of what I have been involved with in my adult life has either closed, ended, or is about to. My beloved college, which closed in 1973... but the places where I taught: Saint Luke's Elementary School, Seton High School, and now, Seton Keough High School. At least my own alma maters, Saint Agnes Elementary in West Chester, and Bishop Shanahan High, are still alive and flourishing. But I am also thinking about my religious community. Three of our youngest members left the community in September and October. True, two new members joined us, but it's nothing to compare with the forty something women who left this earth for their eternal home. You don't replace forty with two.
My friend and fellow artist, Sister Janet Gildea from the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati, wrote a compelling entry in her blog about this topic: she called it "Completion." Reading her thoughts concretized my own thoughts. Among other things, she said:
"...Now there are only three Sisters of Charity in the city. It takes no stretch of the imagination to realize that soon there will be none. What heartache! In my mind, I counted the remaining SCs in the cities "up the line" from Albuquerque to Denver: fewer than 20. Behind the driver's seat we carried a large wood-carved statue of St. Francis from Catholic Charities in Albuquerque honoring the ministries of our sisters. I honored them in my heart, remembering so many stories they shared with me when I came to New Mexico just after first vows in 1986. I love our history here in the Southwest and I am grateful that I was able to experience the years of its completion.
...St. Joseph Sr. Carol Zinn (SSJ) used that word "completion" in her remarks to the Resource Center for Religious Institutes, saying that it is not a question of "if" but "when" congregations in Europe, North America and Australia will complete their stories.
She is hopeful, though:
"...What new "expression of religious life," as Zinn said, will meet the demands of ministry not just today but tomorrow? Who knows? I believe that our newest members have the eyes for those horizons. Reading even a few recent titles from GSR's Horizons writers gives a sense of what they see: "A crash course in organizing: Overcoming fear," "Building soil, cultivating peace," "A consistent ethic of life is as relevant now as it was 30 years ago," "I don't know black," "Living, loving and leading in fog," and "An experiment in hope." These young sisters are expressing how consecrated life will evolve. When they come, they may be new to the culture of congregation and even cultural Catholicism but they are often well-equipped with skills for collaboration, networking, appreciating diversity, community living, sustainability, and, of course, technology. And they are quick learners...
But...
"We readily acknowledge that we live in the tension between what is and what is not yet. Most congregations have set processes in motion for the transition of sponsored ministries, stewardship of resources, and care of the elders. We have all known the delicacy of convening gatherings of those sisters of a certain chronological age to have the critical conversations about the future. We have worked so diligently towards inclusion and consensus that we can hardly consider a process that leaves anyone out. I wonder, though, if this is somehow a way that we resist the inevitable completion that Carol Zinn dares to name."
Maybe these thoughts are coming because of my age. Such an increase in the number of people I know/knew who have crossed to the other side...
And then I get to thinking that my own nation is facing its end... the end of representative democracy as we knew it... the end of its position as
"leader of the free world..." Not to mention the end of its beautiful environment. The end of Robins and oak trees, of clean rivers and streams...
In the language of my Boomer generation , this blog entry is a downer.
Readers, you probably gave up reading to the end of it several paragraphs ago.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
Time doesn't stop
The novel Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry was published in 2004.
I have been teaching it to my freshmen since the Fall of 2012.
I am presently reading it again, in preparation for discussing it with my 2016 freshmen.
I am blessed to be reading it again. Each time, this book says something deeper to me about my own life.
I know I can't put old heads on young shoulders, but I will try to tell my 18 year olds some things I certainly was not ready to hear when I was 18 years old - things that Hannah, the title character and the narrator, says at age 78.
She observes: "Time doesn't stop. Your life doesn't stop and wait until you get ready to start living it.
She talks about her love for her first husband, Virgil, who went missing in World War II:
"I went into love with Virgil, and of course wer were not the only ones there. To be in love with Virgil was to e there in, in love, with his parents, his family, his place, his baby. When he became to to our living love in this world, by knowing what it meant to me I couldn't help knowing what it meant to the others. That was our kindness. It saved us, but it was hard to bear."
In these recent years I have thought more and more about my aunts and uncles and cousins, the siblings of my mother and father. I bitterly regret not asking more questions of my parents about them, stories about their growing up years. My parents were taciturn people, but I really wasn't interested in their families, and so I didn't push them to tell me stories. God, I wish I had.
This beautiful novel makes me wish I had.
I want to tell my students: talk to your grandparents and aunts and uncles! Get them to tell you the stories of their times together!
It also occurred to me that my parents and their siblings and their parents were all people who did not talk much about their feelings. This was much like the people in Hannah Coulter's story, from the 1940's in the country in the United States. It was equally true in many or most of the people in Europe of this same time.
When did that change? When did people start to "spill their guts" on TV shows like Oprah?
When did people ask each other: "how did you feel about.....?"
This disclosure of feelings and emotions marks a huge cultural shift, I think.
Friday, November 25, 2016
Age Is Better
One of my blogging friends, "English Lit Geek", recently posted this poem by Rod McKuen:
Age is Better
Age is Better
Rod McKuen, 1933-2015
I have been young,
a fresh faced sprout,
with agile legs, a muscled arm and smile
to charm the world I went through
in a rush to get a little older, sooner.
Catching my reflection while passing past
a looking glass not long ago
I discovered I was older, even old. There was
no sudden melancholy or regret, and yet
some sadness in the wonder that it happened
while I wasn’t watching,
No pause to proudly ply the autumn into winter
process.
Imagine.
Nothing changed.
I run as fast. I think a little faster and yet forget
at times what I went after there as I left here to
get it. This while crossing half a room
not half a lifetime.
So I’ve been young and I’ve been old and have
determined old is better.
Youth unfolds like coy Cleopatra from a rug
spilling all its golden wonders at the foot of age
who seems to envy everything, especially spring.
The young
pledge anything to get an audience. Delivering
sometimes, most times not, on their way before
the promissory note comes due.
Can you blame them as they hurry off, afraid
another runner may beat them to The Score ahead
leaving nothing to be scored?
Age is oft times bitter, feeling in its failing health
that wealth of life eluded it. Apologize somebody or
some thing for leaving me to find the way I never
found or could not find because it was not there
or never was.
But having seen the surge of youth, the sag of age
in breast and chest and everything, I still say spring
is overrated. Age is better.
Less is expected of the once firm chest that drags
a little lower, the robust voice reduced to murmur
speaking slower.
Age can finally say aloud what it really feels and
thinks in after dinner company or crowd.
No one blinks. If they do, no matter.
Age erases pretence; replacing it with honesty.
Age is proof you got from there to here.
Alas so many that you loved
did not complete the journey. You mourn them, yes,
and always will, but age is such a triumph over youth,
again, because you moved across the years to here.
Leaving there where it belongs
for youth to come along and re-discover.
God, I love this poem.
Rod McKuen, 1933-2015
I have been young,
a fresh faced sprout,
with agile legs, a muscled arm and smile
to charm the world I went through
in a rush to get a little older, sooner.
Catching my reflection while passing past
a looking glass not long ago
I discovered I was older, even old. There was
no sudden melancholy or regret, and yet
some sadness in the wonder that it happened
while I wasn’t watching,
No pause to proudly ply the autumn into winter
process.
Imagine.
Nothing changed.
I run as fast. I think a little faster and yet forget
at times what I went after there as I left here to
get it. This while crossing half a room
not half a lifetime.
So I’ve been young and I’ve been old and have
determined old is better.
Youth unfolds like coy Cleopatra from a rug
spilling all its golden wonders at the foot of age
who seems to envy everything, especially spring.
The young
pledge anything to get an audience. Delivering
sometimes, most times not, on their way before
the promissory note comes due.
Can you blame them as they hurry off, afraid
another runner may beat them to The Score ahead
leaving nothing to be scored?
Age is oft times bitter, feeling in its failing health
that wealth of life eluded it. Apologize somebody or
some thing for leaving me to find the way I never
found or could not find because it was not there
or never was.
But having seen the surge of youth, the sag of age
in breast and chest and everything, I still say spring
is overrated. Age is better.
Less is expected of the once firm chest that drags
a little lower, the robust voice reduced to murmur
speaking slower.
Age can finally say aloud what it really feels and
thinks in after dinner company or crowd.
No one blinks. If they do, no matter.
Age erases pretence; replacing it with honesty.
Age is proof you got from there to here.
Alas so many that you loved
did not complete the journey. You mourn them, yes,
and always will, but age is such a triumph over youth,
again, because you moved across the years to here.
Leaving there where it belongs
for youth to come along and re-discover.
God, I love this poem.
Tuesday, November 22, 2016
On Falling
One of our sisters who is 86 years old and up until last week was robust and sharp and in control of her life, is now dying. She had a very very bad fall about two months ago; she fell flat on her face, walking on the sidewalk outside of her house. She sustained some broken bones, most notably her cheekbones, and was in rehab. Then things went downhill from there. She came up to our skilled care floor up here to continue recovering, but developed blood clots in her legs. Two days ago she became very confused, disoriented, and was even hallucinating. They took her to the hospital for a brain scan and discovered a new and ongoing brain bleed. Now she is unconscious and is on hospice.
It happened so quickly that we are all in shock.
She's not the first. I've known of at least five other persons who have fallen , with bad results, in the last year.
This brings me to an article I read recently in Slate about how dangerous falls are , especially to senior citizens. I'm quoting from it here:
"...All too often, this is the wrong reaction. The one-year
mortality for patients who are admitted to the hospital after a fall is a
staggering 33 percent. A fall bad enough to warrant hospital admission can
carry as poor a prognosis as some stage IV cancers that have metastasized to
the lungs and brain. Of course, the people who are hospitalized after a fall
are much more likely to have a higher mortality rate anyway. (They’re going to
be older, and have more comorbid medical conditions, but falls still pose a
bigger risk than other conditions.) By comparison, the one-year mortality for
older patients admitted to the hospital for pneumonia hovers around 21 percent...
"...Why are falls so dangerous? There are short- and long-term
risks. In the short term, falls that involve trauma to the head can cause
life-threatening intracranial bleeding. Broken bones have their own risk,
including lung embolisms in which tiny fragments of broken bone make their way
into our circulation and reach the lung, causing impressive and often
life-threatening damage. But falls that cause broken hips and legs can cause
death and disability even well after the acute phase. Blood clots to the lung
are more likely in the months after surgery or prolonged periods of
immobilization. People who become more sedentary are more likely to develop a host
of other problems, including heart and lung disease...
"...one powerful prognostic information on fall comes from a careful
assessment of the foot. Foot health, much like dental hygiene, provides
tremendous insight into a person’s functional status and access to healthcare.
The presence of nonhealing wounds imparts significant fall risk. But the
biggest predictor of those who are least likely to fall is simply the ability
to cut one’s own toenails. Even previous falls or near falls are less
predictive...
"...You can also limit your risks by modifying your own
environment and behavior. This hasn’t been empirically tested, but in my
opinion, the most important thing an elderly person can do to protect
themselves from the worst outcomes from a fall is to carpet their home. We
often think about babyproofing the home. But geriatric-proofing them is not a
bad idea either. Additionally, as we age, it is important that we realize our
limitations. The older we get, the more we get up at night to use the restroom.
This may sound silly, but turn on the lights. Your spouse may grumble, but it’s
worth it so you don’t trip and fall. This happens all the time. Get up slowly,
especially in the morning when you haven’t had anything to eat or drink in many
hours. (Dehydration-related falls and even loss of consciousness are common in
emergency departments.)
Committed to staying
in shape by taking the stairs? Fine, but try to only go up the stairs. Taking
the stairs downward provides little exercise, and the momentum of a fall is far
worse..."
This information is important to me, and unnerving too.
Sunday, November 20, 2016
What is Late November Doing?
This morning I re-discovered T.S. Eliot's poem sequence Four Quartets.
It's been a favorite of mine since I first read it fifty years ago in college. In fact, when I gave the welcome address at our commencement ( NOT the valedictory!) I spun my speech from its wordsWe shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Today when I read the whole sequence again, I saw so much that I have missed in it over the years. Maybe I had to be this old to see it.
For now, just look at these lines:
What is the late November doing
With the disturbance
of the spring
And creatures of the
summer heat,
And snowdrops
writhing under feet
And hollyhocks that
aim too high
Red into grey and
tumble down
Late roses filled
with early snow?
Thunder rolled by the rolling stars
Simulates triumphal cars
Deployed in
constellated wars
Scorpion fights
against the Sun
Until the Sun and
Moon go down
Comets weep and
Leonids fly
Hunt the heavens and
the plains
Whirled in a vortex
that shall bring
The world to that
destructive fire
Which burns before
the ice-cap reigns.
TS Eliot East Coker
It quite describes the sixty and seventy degree days we've been having, which finally have given way to northwest winds and thirty degrees.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
On the Feast of Christ the King
also, the last Sunday of the Liturgical Year
At the Vigil Mass tonight, the cantor sang my favorite Alleluia, the one from Weston Priory. He sang the third verse:
the fullness of our joy
Through that love we pass...
Which leads me to another appropriate song for this feast, one of my favorites from Taize:
Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom,
Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom.
At the Vigil Mass tonight, the cantor sang my favorite Alleluia, the one from Weston Priory. He sang the third verse:
He it is in whom we have found
the light of truth,
source of our hope, abiding gift of God’s love.
Through that love we pass and are born in life unending:
Jesus, our Lord,
the fullness of our joy
Through that love we pass...
Which leads me to another appropriate song for this feast, one of my favorites from Taize:
Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom,
Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom.
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Losing Hope
I feel the way the woman in this photograph looks. I'm glad the bear is there to comfort her. I don't seem to have a bear nearby,
Perhaps it's because I've been sick for three weeks: one week with a "barf your guts out" stomach bug, followed by two weeks of really bad sinus infection and bronchitis. I am still taking the antibiotics. This physical state tends to depress a person.
However, the news in our country has also caused me to lose hope. I see a huge ( as our president-elect would say) crash coming. The prosperity he has promised to his followers, the really poor and disadvantaged working class white people in the middle of the country, is just not going to happen.
In the meantime, if the Republicans do away with Medicare, old people are going to be dying in the streets.
That's the catastrophe I see coming. I hope I am wrong, but that's almost the last hope I have tonight.
And in my religious community, the three youngest members left a few weeks ago; not together, but one after another. What does that mean for the future of our province? I don't have much hope there, either, and I feel guilty feeling that way.
So I am going to post some pictures I like right now, just to have something more colorful.
That was a truly marvelous moon the other night:
This one is titled "Hypocrisy":
and
Friday, November 11, 2016
It went downhill from Sunday
Sunday November 6 was a lovely day. Even though I had come down with a bad head cold, I still was able to speak.
I drove through beautiful sunny November country, through Lancaster county, the land of my ancestors, down to West Grove, Pa, where I gave a poetry reading as a fundraiser for the West Chester Poetry Center. So many old friends were there! They liked the poetry, and I had a good time, too.
I stayed overnight with my friends in West Chester. By Monday morning, the cold had gotten much worse, and I had no voice.
I drove back to Emmitsburg and had a car crash on Rt. 30 about ten miles west of York.
A three-car rear-ender. I was the third vehicle, and the other two were large heavy pickup trucks.
I was unhurt, but the car was totaled.
Thus began hours of police, towtrucks, waiting for the sisters to get there to pick me up.
Then, of course, Tuesday was Election Day, when Trump and the Republicans won everything.
A lot of my friends were weeping all over Facebook about this. I was not. I was not completely surprised, even though the polls were so wrong. Too many people in this country hated Hillary.
I cannot imagine what this means for our country. I hope it means all the good things that those who voted for this think will happen: more jobs and better economic opportunity for so many who have felt so dismissed and ignored .
Then , on Wednesday I went to the doctor and found I have some really nasty upper respiratory infection. I'm loaded up with a heavy duty antibiotic called Keflex ( she even gave me a huge shot of it in my behind in the office!) and five days of Prednisone.
Then, yesterday, Leonard Cohen died.
I have loved his music and poetry since I bought his first album in about 1968:
I loved him when he looked like this:
and I loved him more recently, especially as he was on his Live from London tour in 2008:
I can't decide which one is my favorite song. The first one I loved was "Suzanne" but more recently
it is "Halleluiah."
I used to sing "Hey That's No Way to Say Goodbye"
Goodbye, dear Leonard.
I drove through beautiful sunny November country, through Lancaster county, the land of my ancestors, down to West Grove, Pa, where I gave a poetry reading as a fundraiser for the West Chester Poetry Center. So many old friends were there! They liked the poetry, and I had a good time, too.
I stayed overnight with my friends in West Chester. By Monday morning, the cold had gotten much worse, and I had no voice.
I drove back to Emmitsburg and had a car crash on Rt. 30 about ten miles west of York.
A three-car rear-ender. I was the third vehicle, and the other two were large heavy pickup trucks.
I was unhurt, but the car was totaled.
Thus began hours of police, towtrucks, waiting for the sisters to get there to pick me up.
Then, of course, Tuesday was Election Day, when Trump and the Republicans won everything.
A lot of my friends were weeping all over Facebook about this. I was not. I was not completely surprised, even though the polls were so wrong. Too many people in this country hated Hillary.
I cannot imagine what this means for our country. I hope it means all the good things that those who voted for this think will happen: more jobs and better economic opportunity for so many who have felt so dismissed and ignored .
Then , on Wednesday I went to the doctor and found I have some really nasty upper respiratory infection. I'm loaded up with a heavy duty antibiotic called Keflex ( she even gave me a huge shot of it in my behind in the office!) and five days of Prednisone.
Then, yesterday, Leonard Cohen died.
I have loved his music and poetry since I bought his first album in about 1968:
I loved him when he looked like this:
and I loved him more recently, especially as he was on his Live from London tour in 2008:
I can't decide which one is my favorite song. The first one I loved was "Suzanne" but more recently
it is "Halleluiah."
I used to sing "Hey That's No Way to Say Goodbye"
Goodbye, dear Leonard.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016
The Asteroid
This truly brutal and cruel election season in the USA is over, and Donald Trump will be our next president.
It was fairly close; in fact, Hillary Clinton won the popular vote, but Trump's electoral votes were over and above what he needed.
I've read some articles which explain this to me.
However, I am still worried about what will happen to our country during the next four years.
I feel the truth in this remark by the comedian Stephen Colbert:
"It seems like we're trying to avoid an apocalypse, and half of the people are voting for the asteroid."
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
All Souls Day
I love this poem by Jean Nordhaus:
With Their Wings
by Jean Nordhaus
by Jean Nordhaus
—for Delia
On the evening you were born,
after the tremendous churning
that brought you forth, an owl
flew onto the rail of the balcony
where we sat, as darkness bled
from backlit hills into the sky.
In twilight, she perched on the ledge
measured us with wide, light-
after the tremendous churning
that brought you forth, an owl
flew onto the rail of the balcony
where we sat, as darkness bled
from backlit hills into the sky.
In twilight, she perched on the ledge
measured us with wide, light-
gleaning eyes, then sailed off
on soft wings. Shades of my mother,
I thought, half-believing—the wide-
set eyes and level gaze.
on soft wings. Shades of my mother,
I thought, half-believing—the wide-
set eyes and level gaze.
For those who say the dead
have no more truck with us
are wrong. The dead are all around us
feathering the air with their wings.
They see in the fertile darkness
that surrounds this sac of light.
And in these hours we call them back
to steady us, who live in time.
have no more truck with us
are wrong. The dead are all around us
feathering the air with their wings.
They see in the fertile darkness
that surrounds this sac of light.
And in these hours we call them back
to steady us, who live in time.
"With Their Wings" by Jean Nordhaus from Memos from the Broken World. © Mayapple Press, 2016. Reprinted with permission
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