Sunday afternoon found my family unexpectedly at a memorial service at the high school, standing in the cold and snow around a bonfire. That evening, my daughter sits on the couch beside me, reading Robert Frost’s poem “Fire and Ice.” Why, she asks, is she required to memorize poems and recite them aloud?
Because poetry is who we are, both the beauty, the sheer ugliness at times, and the unexplained complexity of life. Here’s a poem by Kim Stafford:
Stony Soil Vermont 
Such a beautiful poem to ponder. Thank you Brett Ann!
Still in the space of disbelief over losing my mom. This poem. Wow. Tears.
My heart goes out to you. xo
That’s a hell of a poem. Thanks for sharing
As always, thanks for reading.
This poem is poignant and moving. Brett, you have a remarkable ability to link together other people’s writings with your own writing. (The inside of your brain must look like a referral library!!) Thank you for introducing me to Kim Stafford, who I immediately began to read about, which led me to reading about his father William Stafford, including this fine article: https://www.terrain.org/2017/interviews/william-stafford-family/ Can you imagine having two poet laureates in one family?!
Oops, I meant ‘reference’ library. Apparently my iPad didn’t think I should be using that particular word!
Auto correct! William Stafford wrote a terrific book called Writing the Australian Crawl — about writing, as I recall. I haven’t read it in years.