this is the 130th in my series of posts on forgotten or seldom read books
I greatly enjoy sitting down with a book of poetry, losing myself in the words and images of the writer, the rhythm and flow of the words and lines, mining the meanings and mental imagery on the page.
It doesn’t matter to me if the works are in rhyme or open as long as what I read communicates, speaks to me. Poems are often short and often thought-provoking. They not infrequently capture some small detail, some way of seeing the world that’s intriguing. A poem can pack more punch than an three hundred page novel, all in a small number of artfully crafted lines.
For a long time Carl Sandburg’s poems have been among my favorites. In 2005 I visited his home, Connemara, in Flat Rock, North Carolina (see the photo at right, taken on that visit). Though undergoing some renovations at the time, the house was still fascinating, especially Sandburg’s library and his small writing room, where he wrote much of his poetry and prose at a desk overlooking the sloping lawn and pond near the bottom of his property.
Wind Song is a small collection, featuring, when published, just sixteen new poems, along with eighty previously published poems, many written with young people or family in mind. Thinking of family, grandchildren and – during walks – nature over the Thanksgiving weekend, I picked this up and reread it. The poem I posted Wednesday (here) is from this collection. Sandburg’s poetry: wonderful as always.
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More Friday Forgotten Book posts
can be found at Patti Abbott’s fine blog Pattinase