I’m David Harrison, Missouri’s 7th Poet Laureate. I live with my wife Sandy in Springfield where it is my pleasure to host "Poetry from Daily Life." Since starting the column in November 2023, a growing number of wonderfully talented guests from across America and beyond have added their perspectives to the conversation. Today’s column marks the 82nd consecutive weekly edition of the series, which is archived by our sponsor, the Springfield News-Leader. Together we are making a unique collection of insights, tips, stories, and poems. I’m grateful to all of you for reading what we have to offer and hope you will continue to share the columns so others can enjoy them.
Snapshots of life
Poems are multi-splendored things. What poetry is doesn’t matter as much as what it does. Expectations and perceptions differ from reader to reader, from need to need.
I recently spoke to a university poetry class and read some poems of mine written for young readers. One was about a child on a swing, listening to his grandfather talk about the old country. Another was about a raven croaking out its soulful song from atop a dead tree in Alaska. A third was about an old woman in a village up the Amazon River.
Face of the Amazon
She stands beside the path, stooped,
leaning on a crooked cane,
resting there to catch her breath
watching children play.
She nods and smiles
like on that spot
once she was the one chased.
Her face, mahogany
finely carved, deeply grained,
polished hard by sun and rain,
a portrait of the Amazon.
After other memories fade,
her human face remains,
any woman anywhere,
watching children play.
A concerned student in the group raised his hand. “These poems ...” he said, “are rather simple. They are only about one subject ...”
I agreed with him. “These are snapshot poems,” I told him. “They are glimpses of life to save and re-savor. Just as we keep photo albums to revisit favorite moments, we often write poems as reminders of what we don’t want to forget."
True, some poems are dense with layers of meaning and references known to a few learned readers. Some cry out in anguish. Some shake clinched fists and demand that we do something! But much of the time we are content to write about something we saw or did or know about that seems worth a poem without an agenda to change the world. Poets love to quote Billy Collins’ poem, “Introduction to Poetry,” about those who insist on tying a poem to a chair with rope and beating it with a hose to find out what it really means.
Twenty-five years ago, a waitress named Patsy worked at a restaurant where I liked to eat. She was professional at her job, always got your order right and gave efficient service. You got little small talk from Patsy, but she did provide a trick that few could match. When pouring coffee, she started at the rim of the cup then raised the pot a foot above the table while the stream of hot liquid flowed in to just below the brim. Wordlessly, she would move on in search of other empty cups. Two weeks ago, I thought of Patsy and impulsively wrote a poem about her. I teased my readers with the double entendre title and then gave them a snapshot poem about a busy waitress amusing herself at her job.
How that Woman Filled Her Cups
She filled her cups just short of overflowing,
pot touching the lip of each,
rising with a flourish of brown column
appearing disappearing into white porcelain,
moved on to other tables,
a woman gifting full cups
without spilling one hot drop.
Is that all there is to it? Yep. Unless you want to make more of it. Maybe write about legions of men and women around the world serving hungry customers — young ones in school, retired ones seeking relief from boredom, those who chose a life of waiting tables as their calling. Lots to think about. Lots to write about. Enough to fill a snapshot album? Depends on the poet, the reader, and the need. No rope required.
David L Harrison is also Poet Laureate for Drury University. He has published more than 100 books of poems, stories, nonfiction, and books for classroom teachers that have received a long list of awards. To learn more, visit his website at https://davidlharrison.com/.