runaway winter
My friend, Ekaterina Evseyeva, wrote to me recently with a very interesting idea for a literary project.
Ekaterina is a Sakha poet, photographer and scholar living up near the Arctic circle in Siberia. She asked if we could collaborate together; she would send me one of her outstanding photos and I would write a poem in response.
This is the first; the photo, Runaway Winter, is of her Ekaterina herself. Outside my window autumn is here, soon snow. From the photo I began thinking of winter less as half a year of dread ice and slush but rather as a friend one must put up with, even, perhaps, enjoy. The Romantic poet Samuel T. Coleridge begins his poem, Frost at Midnight with the lines, "The Frost performs its secret ministry …" I liked that idea. The only downside to befriending winter is that sooner or later winter leaves you. That would be sad. Poor, lonely winter! Poor, lonely me …
all the opium Coleridge took for pain/
pain that old dun horse/ horse at the salt lick/
lick of brackish winter/ winter remain
with me here/ here everything is panic/
panic remembers out beyond the creek/
creek bed full of snow/ snow on my tongue/ tongue
in your mouth/ mouth full of words/ words lovesick
with my craving … was it craving that flung
winter away? was it these words that stung?
a wasp on the ice marsh? was it my mouth
winter dread? the glimmer of warmth among
kisses? or was it panic from the south?
blizzard bound horse? Was it Coleridge's frost
winter left me for? Winter! I am lost —
October 5th, 2006 at 4:09 pm
Zachary,
You should most definitely collaborate. I’ve done it with fellow poet Sarah Lilius, & am just embarking on a long distance, photo/ poetry collaboration with photorgrapher Kris Sanford. Best part is, you never know what’s going to come of it.
Cheers,
Erin