January 10, 2014
Poetry Friday--"Seasonally Affected"
Link on the poem for a clearer look. © Diane Mayr, all rights reserved. "After the Snowfall" by Jonas Lie (1908), courtesy The Athenaeum.
A little bit of background: last month I was fortunate enough to be the winner of a copy of O, What a Luxury by Garrison Keillor at Keri Recommends. I commented on one of Keri Collins Lewis's posts when she was running a give-away and my name was selected. Keri and I had a little back-and-forth correspondence as a result. Here in NH we were in the middle of a snowstorm and Keri comes from snowless Mississippi, so I wrote a poem for her, which I posted here. Keri also said, "Make a snow angel for me!" To which I replied that if ever I got down, I'd never be able to get up. She wrote back, "I can see you so clearly, casting about in the snow after making an angel, looking for a different kind of angel to come and help you up!" I only wish that image had been the one that took over, but it didn't, as you can see from the results above. So, although Keri should have this poem dedicated to her, I won't because the poem is a wee bit depressing!
I don't stay blue for long--I think creativity takes the blues and changes them into colors with which to paint, at least it does for me.
Donna at Mainely Write is this Friday's Round-Up host. Dress warmly before heading out!
Posted by Diane Mayr at 12:01 AM
Labels: original poem
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
Your turnaround of the poem is terrific, unexpected, & sadly true. I do believe I could still make a snow angel, but skiing no more. Funny to hear about your inspiration for the poem, Diane!ReplyDelete
Thanks, Linda. Fully dressed, with someone to give me a hand up, I would still lie down in the snow! It won't be pretty, though!ReplyDelete
Ah, but you'll always have angel's wings. Lovely poem and painting pairing!ReplyDelete
Yes, she will. :-)Delete
Jama, I love that painting. It is so like the morning after a big snowstorm when the clouds slowly start to give way to the sun.Delete
Thank you for sharing the back story of this poem, Diane. It's always lovely when a conversation with a friend sparks a poem.ReplyDelete
It sure is, Laura!Delete
Snow angels, alas, are a think of my past, too. But I still love happening upon children making snow angels.ReplyDelete
You're not going to believe this, but in our neighborhood growing up, we never made snow angels! I never heard of them until I was grown, or nearly so!Delete
Your soul is never lacking! I think of it as the famed New England pragmatism. Why get so cold and wet when one could be inside, admiring the snow from afar and sipping hot cocoa or tea? Thanks for thinking of me, and delighted no projectile vomiting is involved this time, Dearie! xoxoReplyDelete
Projectile vomiting is a once in a lifetime image for poetry.Delete
I think many can relate to your poem, Diane. But what struck me is your comment:ReplyDelete
"I don't stay blue for long--I think creativity takes the blues and changes them into colors with which to paint, at least it does for me."
What a fabulous way to look at life. Thanks for sharing. =)
Thanks, Bridget! No matter what, creating something, even if the thought behind it is depressing, always brightens my day.Delete
Did you know that in some warmer places they make angels in the sand? Now that is my kind of angel!ReplyDelete
As a kid I was always disappointed to see the boot prints or hand prints left beside (or inside) the angel when I got up. And now, well, I don't think I want to see what kind of an impression I'd make! Loved your poem, though and have the same feeling, that if I ever laid down in the snow, there I'd remain until someone strong happened by.
Well, Donna, the obvious solution to both your problems is the have a crane lift you over a nice clean area, lower you down to where you can wave your arms freely and not mess up the impression, then lift you back up! It works for me!ReplyDelete
Yes, I'd thought about a crane... Probably the best solution all around, and my grandson would love it.Delete
I remember angels. Snow and otherwise. Lovely.ReplyDelete
I have a small collection of angels hanging on a wall. My favorite is a cat angel, of course.Delete
Enjoyed your poem. The self-deprecating last line made me smile. Hope you're enjoying the snow even without the angels.ReplyDelete
I always enjoy watching snow through a window! It's just so pretty.Delete
I haven't made a snow angel in years, but after reading your poem, I want to! Alas, our snow is gone and it's supposed to rain all day, so I'll hang on to the image of "creativity taking the blues and changing them into colors with which to paint." Thanks for sharing!ReplyDelete
Catherine, we had light snow most of yesterday, but this morning the temperature has risen and rain is expected. Right now, the fog rising from the snow on the ground gives the impression that it is still snowing. Everything is bizarrely white.Delete
Hmm. Blogger ate my long comment from this morning.ReplyDelete
I enjoyed the comments almost as much as your post, especially "Projectile vomiting is a once in a lifetime image for poetry."
I've been blogging on various pages since 2006 and I have yet to figure out why things happen on Blogger!Delete
Really, projectile vomiting should not appear in more than one poem--EVER!
Beautiful painting. I love the images. I think I am with you about getting up again if I try to make a snow angel. If we had snow.ReplyDelete
Jone, I will gladly give you the snow we have yet to receive this winter. It's only January 11 and I've had enough. Right now we're getting freezing rain.Delete
Lovely! May you always have angels to pick you up.ReplyDelete
Or a nearby crane! ;-)Delete
"I think creativity takes the blues and changes them into colors with which to paint" <-- love this philosophy. I may have to borrow it from time to time. I don't know if I could get up very easily after making a snow angel either, but I'd like to try. It's been a long time since I've seen snow.ReplyDelete