“Little Blessing for My Floater” by Jeanne Murray Walker, was published in the November issue of Poetry. I wish I knew whether the epigram meant George Herbert the 17th century poet or G. H. W. Bush, as I personally can’t see the connection either way but the second seems somewhat remotely more applicable if the intent is to suggest a blind spot in political policy. I tend to think though that it is the former that is intended, and as such, though it may merely be my own poor memory, I can’t find the poem that this is intended to be ‘after’ or in what other possible way it relates to George Herbert at all.

But disregarding the unintelligible epigram, the rest of the poem is quite a nice little piece, with both sonics and sense that are fathomable and fun. I love the oxymoron “tiny ruin,” which seems perfectly sensible within the context, the contrast between the “little speck” and the “deep chip,” and the action attributed with the “piton that nails every rock.” I love the internal rhymes of ‘spot,’ ‘not,’ ‘rock,’ and ‘see,’ ‘sea,’ ‘be,’ ‘me,’ ‘see,’ especially because they become noticeable only when the poem is read aloud, at which point they surprisingly come, for the most part, at pauses in the speech, highlighting them and showing the authors obvious attention to the aural pleasure and the contract between aural and visual.

The idea of the poem, of embracing our difficulties, our faults, our trials, is presented freshly and enjoyably. The alternation between abstraction and concreteness keeps the poem grounded while allowing it to soar. However, the final apostrophe seems overblown and unnecessary. I could have hoped that the poem had ended three lines earlier on “that reminds me what I will be zithromax pills 500mg.”

Leave a reply

<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong> 

required