A Poem a Day, Week 5 January 29-Feb 4, 2022

 A Poem a Day, Week 5  January 29-Feb 4, 2022

Welcome to Sifting the Rubble's poetry podcast.  This is Emily Gibson, author of these poems.  We're at week 5, of my personal challenge to write a poem a day for the entire year.  This week, the theme of nature continued, with "Frosting," "Clouds," and "Luminous, a haiku."  And I returned to the theme of childhood, with "Luddite Lullaby," "Swing Set, 1977," and "On Quarry Pond."  

This week, I am experimenting with adding a few words about each poem.  While I like poetry to stand alone, and let others take what meaning they wish from it, I can see value in sharing the inspiration, backstory, or setting of a particular poem.  I hope you enjoy this peek into why I wrote these seven poems.

If you would like to receive an email reminder each week, when the new poetry collection is published please email me at blueheronms@yahoo.com and I'll put you on my private, my-eyes-only list.  :)

Thanks for reading/listening!

:) Emily

Listen: Audio Podcast of Week 5

Poem #29, Frosting

About "Frosting": This is what I saw on this day, when I visited my horse, Ber.  I have seen him hit by hoarfrost before, but usually he gets frosted all over.  As I was telling someone about it, it hit me that he looked like a frosted mini-wheat, and the poem was born.

Poem #30, Swing Set, 1977

About "Swing Set, 1977": It is only in looking back that I recognize what a gift this swing set was for my brother and me. I loved that it was born from our mom finding a massive rope at the dump.  We found many treasures at the dump, back in the day when you could go rummaging in the dump for things. The significance of this swing and the role it played in all of our lives became clearer as this poem emerged.

Poem #31, Clouds

About "Clouds": I am ever drawn to the sky, and to the clouds.  I don't actually have a favorite cloud.  They are all capable of stopping me in my tracks to stare in wonder.  The best sky, to me, thought, is one where there are many different clouds, occupying the layers of the atmosphere.  

Poem #32, Luminous

About "Luminous":  My partner, Jay, came home after spending a day up on the mountain on his snowboard.  I was struck by his face and wanted to capture it in words.  At that moment, I could see so clearly what being in the mountains does for him, stripping away the cares of the world and bringing him to his elemental, core being.

Poem #33, Luddite Lullaby

About "Luddite Lullaby":  Growing up, I learned to live the motto "Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without."  We had little water, with our shallow well, and we had little money, which meant being very frugal with electricity, hence the handwashing and wringing of clothes, and hanging them to dry. When our mom purchased things, she tried to get well-made items that would last, like the treadle sewing machine and the manual typewriter.  I can still hear the sounds of the house in the evening, as I went to bed, and she stayed up late working on her projects; her endless, productive, resourceful projects.  I am a reluctant techie, forced to use it for my work, and often call myself a "closet luddite" in homage to my upbringing.

Poem #34, On Quarry Pond

About "On Quarry Pond": My brother and I really did inherit our mom's journal.  It lives with him, stored in a massive fire-proof safe, and he has spent the last 14 years working on reading the entire thing-- I think he is in the mid-1980's right now, though it hasn't been his mission to read it quickly. He often sends me photos of sections that I might enjoy, and we talk about what to do, how to bring her vision to fruition and find a home for her work.  This poem originally started with a poem of the sounds of her typewriter, which evolved into "Luddite Lullaby."  Then I realized I wanted to say something about her journal and its constant presence in our lives growing up. 

Poem #35, Luminous, a Haiku

About Luminous, a Haiku: While riding my bicycle around Bend, the mountains are ever present.  On this day, I came around a corner and Mt. Bachelor was absolutely brilliant white, as if in a spotlight, but there was no visible sun.  Just the white snow, set against the grayest of skies.