By Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate, 2004-2006
Diane Glancy is one of our country’s Native American poets, and I recently judged her latest book, Asylum in the Grasslands, the winner of a regional competition. Here is a good example of her clear and steady writing.
Indian Summer
There’s a farm auction up the road.
Wind has its bid in for the leaves.
Already bugs flurry the headlights
between cornfields at night.
If this world were permanent,
I could dance full as the squaw dress
on the clothesline.
I would not see winter
in the square of white yard-light on the wall.
But something tugs at me.
The world is at a loss and I am part of it
migrating daily.
Everything is up for grabs
like a box of farm tools broken open.
I hear the spirits often in the garden
and along the shore of corn.
I know this place is not mine.
I hear them up the road again.
This world is a horizon, an open sea.
Behind the house, the white iceberg of the barn.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
wow! great poem!
The colors and sounds and the in-between-feeling of Indian summer run through these lines. As well, the last couplet gives us so much. Look! it seems to say. Look at your life, the dailiness of it. We move toward the horizon, looking out at the sights, each one a gift. It is the transitional moments, like Indian summer, that remind us to live fully, now, to “dance full”–now.