[I won’t be able to write from the grave]

I won’t be able to write from the grave
so let me tell you what I love:
oil, vinegar, salt, lettuce, brown bread, butter,
cheese and wine, a windy day, a fireplace,
the children nearby, poems and songs,
a friend sleeping in my bed—
and the short northern nights.

Notes on the Poem
Our Poem of the Week is from the 2001 Griffin Poetry Prize shortlisted collection, Fanny Howe: Selected Poems (University of California Press)  by Fanny Howe.

Of the collection the judges said: “Fanny Howe’s lyric meditations on matter and spirit, the soul exiled, and the wondrous strangeness of human life on earth are akin to Dickinson’s in their fierce wit, musicality and intelligence. Gathered from nine of her books spanning more than two decades, these poems articulate the inquisitive grace and courage of a secular contemplative, restoring to language its power to question the sacred in the interests of corporeal joy.”

Listen to Fanny Howe read from Selected Poems
here.