Here is a poem from a slim volume by Stuart Dischell, Evenings & Avenues (Penguin, 1996).
The Cove
The trees do not move all day.
They do not move forever.
And the bathers in their dark costumes
Will not take their feet out of the water.
How does the bird freeze in flight,
And the meat in the shadows not spoil?
No one is moving now.
Nothing moves ever.
Not thirst. Not heat. Not summer. Not fire.
Not the urge in the loins of the reclining figure,
Or the word on the lips of the speaker.
Unbroken wave. Unblinking eye.
Full moon of the postmark
Below the bent corner.
Summer is coming and people who travel on vacation still send postcards to those at home. I hope this traditional activity never changes.
In the last century, before the proliferation of snapshot cameras and today's digital cameras, postcards were often the only way people had to visually document their trips. An awesome collection of Tichnor Brothers postcards, c. 1930-1950s, is held by Boston Public Library and can be accessed at flickr.
A fun exercise would be to find an old postcard for a place you're familiar with. Compare the postcard picture to the picture you have in your head. Write a poem. Maybe that's what I'll do for next Friday.
For today, there's still more Poetry Friday participants to visit, so start by reading through the Round-Up at TeacherDance. Enjoy your trip around the blogosphere!
Top and bottom postcards courtesy Boston Public Library.
I love this POST post! And the poem. My daughter is finishing up a month of foreign study in New Zealand and says she mailed postcards to the family. I'm eagerly checking the mailbox! Happy Summer, Diane.
ReplyDeleteMy brother periodically sent my boys postcards when he lived in London for a couple of year. They loved getting those postcards in the mail.
ReplyDeleteI love postcards. And I love this poem!
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