While in Minnesota, we were able to enjoy a delicious wood-fired oven pizza dinner at the Kroska's beautiful home in Avon, Minnesota. The property is stunning - I think I was told it covers 90 acres - with lakes, gardens, forests and flowers. Also, they are building a root cellar to house apples and onions. While taking the root cellar tour with David Kroska and my dad, I mentioned this poem & said I would send it to David.
Later, I thought sharing poems would make a nice weekly feature on my blog. I need things like weekly features because I have a real problem sticking with things. Strong starts are fine but I have no endurance. What I do have are lots of poems that I've read that I would enjoy sharing.
So instead of cool product giveaways, I will now offer a Tuesday's poem each week.
Root Cellar by Theodore Roethke
Nothing would sleep in that cellar, dank as a ditch,
Bulbs broke out of boxes hunting for chinks in the dark,
Shoots dangled and drooped,
Lolling obscenely from mildewed crates,
Hung down long yellow evil necks, like tropical snakes.
And what a congress of stinks!
Roots ripe as old bait,
Pulpy stems, rank, silo-rich,
Leaf-mold, manure, lime, piled against slippery planks.
Nothing would give up life:
Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath.
4 comments:
Oh YES! Poetry! Awesome. I'm down to basically reading the New Yorker poetry every week, but not reading books as in the good old days. Don't get me wrong, I read BOOKS, but not poetry books. Can I go off topic? I reread all my Cathers this year, and loved them of course, but just also reread Pride and Prejudice and it KILLED me. SO good. I don't want to pick up another book --- why can't all books be that wonderful? ALSO, thanks for the poem -- I loved the vivid imagery and the stubborn refusal to give up at the end. Tis what we all need, some days --- stubbornness. Sorry for rambling ...
Leila says - Love it. Good idea.
It seems that the root cellar was not his favorite place. (: I like the poetry idea. Jon will love it!
you know, Marni, as funny as this may sound, I actually think it's a poem of praise ... but yes, it must have smelled something memorable!
Post a Comment