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Occidental College, L.A, California
1964-1967
Afternoon of a Faun playing, my friend
quoting Dylan Thomas from memory,
the two of us in her dorm room,
long and narrow, curtains blowing,
dark sanctuary lit by her passion
for literature, music, art, drama;
our conversations subtle, oblique;
I groped for her meaning,
as though she spoke a different dialect,
yet how powerful her self, force
of nature, passionate priestess,
art her religion, the highest calling;
at first drawn to poetry but in the end
choosing ceramics, bringing forth shapes
from her soul, boats and birds, abstracted,
symbolic, mysterious; sharing her craft
with generations of students;
fifty years, passion still burning.
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A high tribute to art, friendship, skill and memory, a well rendered poem, Willow,
full of goodness and love
Thanks, John, I always appreciate getting your thoughts on my efforts and I’m glad you liked this one. I’d never met anyone like her before–she opened my eyes to the possibility that I didn’t have to just read the writings of others, that I too, that anyone, could at least make the attempt, experience the joy of creating.
I am catching up on your posts, Willow – and it is certainly no chore to do so! Another home run. This was a sensitive, lovely piece. Your friend sounds like someone I would very much like.
Thanks, Kate, always good to get your comments! Yes, I can imagine you would like her. It doesn’t really come through in the poem, but she was a lot of fun as well as being so committed to artistic pursuits (past tense because I haven’t seen her in years, but get updates on how/what she’s doing), and in my memory, we spent a lot of time in laughter.
You’re so creative – I hope she’s getting updates of your poetry. You have a wonderful gift for graceful expression, Willow. I hope you share your work with her.
A wonderful piece!
Thank you so much, Zara!
ark sanctuary. Nice phrase, Willow. None of my biz, but have you thought of or are you going to collect these online poems and self-publish them in a chat book?
Well, I’m not sure what can be done with the online poems. Guess I’m hoping that a book publisher, since they don’t mind if someone’s poems have been published in literary journals (in fact, they probably take it as a vote of confidence), will let at least some of them go into a book, if I find someone that will publish a collection of my poetry. Otherwise, I’ll have to think again.
Um, make that dark sanctuary…