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The wonderfull word banke.

August 9, 2010 \am\31 10:53 am

A wintery mix of nouns stolen from Nate Pritts’ achingly lovely collection of poems, The Wonderfull Yeare, with which to write po.

afternoon     ants     arms     aspens     blessing     branch     breath     canal     candle     cherry     chest     constellations     cornfield     crawl     cricket     curtain     darling     determinant     disconnect     elements     fence     fingers     fireflies     fuck-up     gaps     grasses     gull     hand     knees     knife     lake     leaves     light     limbs     machinery     mud     paper     passage     pattern     piece     pines     rock     shadows     sickness     snow     thunder     universe     wings      wires


These are my small thoughts about this book:

I feel an ache, embedded in the turning earth, as Pritts’ speaker faces each season for the first time without his beloved.

I remember an ache, embedded in the turning earth, as I faced each season for the first time without you.

Is she still here or isn’t she? How can she not be? It is summer after all.

Were you still there or weren’t you? How could you not be? It was snowing after all.

We can escape our old haunts, but not the shared seasons. Pritts’ repetition of images drawn from the big blue marble, and its surrounding cosmos, sends this home.

Ten years later, I sometimes feel you’re still here with me now.


And…bonus track. If this book had a soundtrack, I believe it would be Yo La Tengo’s Autumn Sweater.

  1. August 10, 2010 \am\31 4:37 am 4:37 am

    Wanting to read this book now.

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