Thursday, June 16, 2005

Snips of a Conversation with Judy at Last Sunday's Playdate when

we tried to teach J not to throw sand from the sand & water table (now officially a water table) on her daughter G and/or us after she read a poem I've been working on--

J: Wow. This is really beautiful.

Me: Do you think it's too...

J: I think it's done.

Me: I don't know...

J: Why do you say that?

Me: Because it's not edgy, it's not dark. (pause) There's no violence in it. [laughing]

J: [w/ her stern teacher's face on] It's important to show growth as a poet.

Damn, she always knows the right thing to say, even w/ sand flying all over the place.


Simmons B. Buntin said...

I've been having a similar conversation---mostly without the sand and just among myself. After writing a somewhat haunting poem of my own and then reading Mary Oliver and Billy Collins, who have become the constant bread, I ask: Why am I not writing happy poems. Not happy in the sense of light or meaningless, but celebratory and enlightening. I do sometimes, but then the shadow rolls in....


Alison Pelegrin said...


That's it--I think we ARE twins. I have a sand and water table in my back yard which is now a water table/mosquito breeding ground.


Suzanne said...

I find the happy poems, the poems of praise, so much harder to write than the dark, shadowy ones.

And Alison, I knew it! I just knew it. ;-)