“Write down 7 concrete things that you notice every day.”
With winter under way and night creeping in at 4:30 in the afternoon (in New York) I have a lot of inside time at my desk. So I tried this poetry exercise—over many weeks (meant to get you in the habit of keen observation).
From my kitchen window I see the hydrangea balls of winter—dry, dusty, brittle, crunchy. They’ve shrunk to little fists.
My old Nike sneakers squeak loudly on the red oak floor under my feet.
The refrigerator hum is hardly noticeable—but if it disappeared, the sound of emptiness would be deafening.
Exciting stuff.
I noticed the sweet black bull in a lithograph that I pass by every day but don’t always see. The bull is non-threatening—brought to life by the artist with spare brush strokes. The picador on a horse waits in the far distance.
What other creatures were living here with me? I took out my notebook. Here’s my list (from the first floor):
This beautiful lady has a nest on her head. I found her in Santa Fe many years ago. (Yesterday I noticed two nests tucked in the arms of the bare Dogwood in front.)
1 black bull in a lithograph
3 cats (2 are snoozing)
1 horse in a lithograph (with a rider with a spear)
1 skinny brown dog suggested with a fine watercolor brush
1 embroidered pigeon at the kitchen window with glass eyes
1 green ceramic rooster
3 brown bats flying in a lithograph dated 1968
1 ornate heron in the old Chinese tapestry
1 scaly dragon with white eyelashes
1 cat with orange ears in a child’s drawing
1 bird carved from Redwood swallowing a snake
1 carapace of a turtle
1 bird’s nest
1 tiny, carved jade owl
1 William Carlos Williams’ red miniature book of poems
with 4 white chickens
William Carlos Williams is a beloved American poet known as an Imagist and member of the modernist movement. He was a physician by day and a poet by night. (His first language was Spanish!)
Here’s a link to The Red Wheelbarrow and to This is Just to Say. My holiday gifts to you.
A friend and retired English teacher told me that when teaching poetry to young students she’d ask them to try creating a poem in the style of The Red Wheelbarrow. I decided to try it right here. Why not?
So much depends
upon
the horse
in the painting
with a rider
with a spear
But I don’t know what to call it. I need to bring in the sweet black bull into the story.
Felices Fiestas! healing wishes for our world!
(We are headed to California to be with our son and his beautiful family and very dear friends. Out of the house!)