This strange November for Northeasterners - this is one of my favorite months when the sky is this strange intense blue and the leaves are all off the trees so they are stark black outlines against that blue; the wind whips your scarf around and you pull your coat closer and your animals senses tell you to hibernate while your modern day sensibilities tell you to put the tea kettle on.
Except it is sweater weather and some leaves still cling and people are out shopping for Christmas gifts when it feels like late summer. Hmmm. I don't know if I would fare well in Florida or some other warm climate year round.
Have to share this link where a younger Anthony Hopkins reads Dylan Thomas' poem
Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night. I like the comment directly below that she would listen to him read a cereal box...yup. And the links beside it - Christopher Walken reading Poe's The Raven? I'm there.
Another poet I encourage you to discover, Heather Hartley, was nice enough to let me know the review I wrote for The Chattahoochee Review of her wonderful book, Knock Knock, is now up on her website. You can access it here.
I recently discovered the work of this poet, Linda Pastan, at the library and just a few poems in to one of her collections, ordered several of her books. Not thrifty I am sure, but my poetry bookshelves are happy as am I.
A sadder way to discover a poet unknown to me is to hear of her death and then - searching for her work - find it is also kindred and moving and wonderful, and now edged with something like tarnished silver knowing she just left the room of the earth. An NPR spotlight on Ruth Stone. There are so many poets to get to know (and don't you hate it when people say (with a gasp) "you mean you don't know his/her work?" as if there was even enough brain cells working here to know a third of anything much less a world and lifetimes of poets. But I wish I could.
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