Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the tag “Amy Lowell”

POM: March’s Weather Madness

While March Madness is usually associated with basketball and even consumer blitzes, March is madness when it comes to weather. One day lovely enough to doze in the sun, the next is a frightful onslaught of wind and rain. My daffodils are cautiously lifting their green points from the earthen bed, unsure of what will greet them–freeze or warmth. This poem dropped in my box today and is perfect after a soggy wind-blown weekend.

March Evening by Amy Lowell

Blue through the window burns the twilight;

Heavy, through trees, blows the warm south wind.

Glistening, against the chill, gray sky light,

Wet, black branches are barred and entwined.

Sodden and spongy, the scarce-green grass plot

Dents into pools where a foot has been.

Puddles lie spilt in the road a mass, not

Of water, but steel, with its cold, hard sheen.

Faint fades the fire on the hearth, its embers

Scattering wide at a stronger gust.

Above, the old weathercock groans, but remembers

Creaking, to turn, in its centuried rust.

Dying, forlorn, in dreary sorrow,

Wrapping the mists round her withering form,

Day sinks down; and in darkness to-morrow

Travails to birth in the womb of the storm
How is spring arriving in your locale? 


NPM: #27–of imagery and such

Amy Lowell doesn’t quite get the press like Emily Dickinson does, although Amy did receive a Pultizer for her work. Very much influenced by the Imagist Movement, Lowell, like Ezra Pound, captures the essence of a scene in only a few words.  So much is left unsaid, which is what makes this poem so complete.

image: morguefile/rezdora70


Amy Lowell, 18741925
Over the shop where silk is sold
Still the dragon kites are flying.

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