Anne Porter, once and this is
Again following in my theme of all things Maine and New York School of Poetry-ish and memoir, haiku prose, flash. All this to say: I’ve been reading the poems of Anne Porter. Her first collection, An Altogether Different Language (1994), published when she was 83, was named a finalist for the National Book Award. Her other volume of poetry is Living Things: Collected Poems (2006). I was struck upon beginning this collection how many of her poems seem to be reminisces. In deed, she lived a long life, passing away in 2011 just shy of 100 th birthday. A number of her poems begin with the word once . The Wingéd Children Once when my friends Were driving through the desert In Mexico They passed a pickup truck And in the back of it Each with a pair of wings Of sky-blue plush Such as is used For making bedroom-slippers There rode a dozen little Mexican children. In addition she began a series of poems with This is . Summer Cottage This...