How much the world has changed in a month. I've been through, and watched others go through, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' five stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - which is applicable to significant loss of any kind. And we've all been through significant loss in the last month, in the very least any sense of normality and trust in the world as we know it.
However we are amazingly adaptable creatures and poetry is thankfully a stable and safe place to return to in these unstable times. I was happy to contribute a video poem recorded from self-isolation in my bedroom to be showcased as part of a 'Plague of Poetry' series blog run by the ever cheerful Scottish poet Hugh McMillan. I've been enjoying the daily dose of the plague and you can see my contribution here. Stay safe out there, this time will pass.
4 comments:
Hari OM
That was beautiful, Marion! One day, that ever-growing mountain daughter with the halo of hair is going to treasure this! Be safe. Be well. Behave. YAM xx
Behaving has never been part of the plan :D) Thanks so much Yam, take care xx
There’s poetry to be found in everything. I believe that strongly but I can’t always see it. Christ knows how many times I brushed my daughter’s hair (although not as often as I would’ve liked) and I never got the remotest inkling of a poem. I’ve always been jealous of those artists who can make the mundane magical. Like Kate Bush singing about washing machines or reciting π to its 137th decimal place. I have written poems about my daughter but only a handful in forty years. I did write her a book when she was two although I never actually read to her until she was eighteen. It’s called H.M. Mole and begins, “Henry Martin Mole was a mole, which is a useful thing to be with a name like Henry Martin Mole.” I typed it on orange paper and that’s the only copy that exists. One day I suppose I’ll type it up and clean it up.
That sounds special, Jim, I'm sure your daughter really appreciates it X
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