Poem for the Weekend

 

Recently I expressed a desire to read more poetry, which is true. Well, here’s me doing something about it. Do you want to read more poetry but don’t know where to start, can’t find the time? Let’s do this together! Every Friday, I’ll share a Poem for the Weekend. Something I read during the week and enjoyed. My only requirement—that it not be too long. I’m trying to ease into this, after all; I may change this requirement eventually. I’d love it if you shared a poem back, or pointed me in the direction of a poet or collection that you love.

Here’s the first, by James Schuyler who said “much of poetry is as concerned with looking at things and trying to transcribe them as painting is.” Seems a good start for this late-summer day and for my blog, which is all about shimmers of inspiration.

 

Shimmer

by James Schuyler

The pear tree that last year
was heavy-laden this year
bears little fruit. Was
it that wet spring we had?
All the pear tree leaves
go shimmer, all at once. The
August sun blasts down
into the coolness from the
ocean. The New York Times
is on strike. My daily
fare! I'll starve! Not
quite. On my sill, balls
of twine wrapped up in
cellophane glitter. The
brown, the white and one
I think you'd call ecru.
The sunlight falls partly
in a cup: it has a blue
transfer of two boys, a
dog and a duck and says,
"Come Away Pompey." I
like that cup, half
full of sunlight. Today
you could take up the
tattered shadows off
the grass. Roll them
and stow them. And collect
the shimmerings in a
cup, like the coffee
here at my right hand.

 

James Schuyler was born in Chicago, worked as a secretary for W.H. Auden, and won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry. More about his life here, and you can hear him read other poems here.