Posts Tagged ‘Viola Weinberg Spirit Garden’

This issue of Convergence Online Journal contains a wonderful sestina by Carol Louis Moon, “Accepting The Temporary.” “I stared at the cat for hours,” it begins, “… with all that means. // But meaning is only temporary…” Moon goes beyond the minimal requirements of a sestina (to reuse the final words of each line of a stanza in each subsequent stanza) adding much circular complexity, doubling back, mulling things from different perspectives. “…the cat circles round itself.” It’s a great use of the form, to keep coming back to touchstones, which touchstones shift on us, in a poem with a theme of the temporary. “one considers the way // life spends itself away.” This poem alone is worth looking up. I give the link to the magazine below.

Viola Weinberg gives us “Spirit Garden,” chock-full of wonderful images. “the 8′ cannas / blazing red, with firecracker throats… and a tepee of willow / in a sea of tomatoes.” Makes me ache and long to get out in the garden, digging my fingers into loam. Sometimes, it’s enough for a poem just to celebrate. “O, the song of it, the symphony / and happy chaos of growing things.”

I liked Darren C. Demaree’s “Poem for Katie, Queen of Ohio #49,” which begins, “I could
canister // my ghosts…” What a great way to start. It’s a short poem, worked out beautifully.

“Fish Tank,” by Scott Laudati, tells of an absurd moment in an otherwise sad incident. “i believed in everything… except when you told me / your tree had been cursed.” Such naiveté of course often leads to misunderstandings at best, disaster at worst. This tale might fall somewhere in the middle, though it has dour moments. “and the crowd cheered as the noose tightened.” Very worth reading.

Many poems in Convergence have a seasonal theme, and one I liked was “Renewal,” by Ann Wehrman. “Through the windows of the bus… bones of winter trees interminable.” But spring does appear, and with it a burst of fun images. “Magnolias bloom like coy southern belles.”

And finally, “Locks Off,” by John Zedolik. “The hasps of March / have swung, knocking / the rust of winter…” An excellent way to start a poem about changing seasons.

The link to the magazine: Convergence Online Journal

Peace in poetry,

P M F Johnson

My eBook of poems, Against The Night, a sweet, rueful look at love in a long marriage, is available on Amazon, and at other fine e-retailers.

Related blog posts:

The New Yorker – Apr 30 18

The Cape Rock – 46

Apple Valley Review – Spring 18


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