Jenne' Andrews is an American poet. She has three published chapbooks including the recent Blackbirds Dance in the Empire of Love, Finishing Line Press 2013.

A full-length collection, Reunion, Lynx House Press, was published in 1983; after a long hiatus to raise Golden Retrievers in Colorado, recent work has appeared in The Passionate Transitory, Belletrist Coterie, The Adirondack Review and Vox Populi, a journal of culture, politics and poetry published and edited by the august Michael Simms.

A bilingual collection of "Italiana," Bocca, Voce, Delirio, with translations by Lorenzo Luciani, will be released by Finishing Line at the end of 2016 and her latest collection, And Now, the Road, a finalist for the Autumn House prize in 2014, will be released by Salmon Poetry Ltd, Ireland, a highly regarded international house, Jessie Lendennie, Publisher, circa 2017.

Andrews holds the MFA in Creative Writing/Poetry from Colorado State University, is a literary fellow of the National Endowment for the Arts, and was full-time Poet in Residence for the St. Paul Schools from '74-78. She lived in St. Paul from 1971-78 during the first wave of the Twin Cities literary renaissance, and spent the summer of 1973 in Reggio Calabria, Italy.

The poet lives in northern Colorado's Poudre River Valley with her husband, fiction writer Jack Brooks; the couple has recently imported two British Golden Retrievers and expects a litter in June-- see the Ardorgold website for details. Contact: jenneandrews2010@gmail.com .

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Repost-- Elegy-- New Poem & One Shot--

reposting--  sorry-- i was revising original and blogger had a meltdown!  I couldn't get the post back.  Thanks for your patience-- no need to weigh in on this one twice...had to paste prior comments in but go ahead and use regular comment process at bottom of page-- xxxj

The Night Moth’s Prize

In memory of Elizabeth and Other Warriors

On the last morphine rush 
you slipped into a reverie—
that you could swim through the veiled
and shimmering air 
that pressed upon you like water
free of the glass cage of the body
yet still of this world

But while you slept 
beneath the moon’s searing eye
the night moth spread itself
upon you like a lover 
claiming your white body 
turning your limbs to sinew;
it laid its succubae
in the spaces of your vertebrae
these hatching
into black butterflies flickering
along the nerves of your spine

And so as it was foretold
by the oncologists
whispering their edicts 
to the nurse and priest,
you lay on a rack
of darkness


When the night moth
made its home
in the bread-warm house
of your flesh
and any new betrayal
was one more shipwreck
a flaying of the pulp of your heart
with the broken strings
of a violin that had already
been playing a good-bye

You taught yourself 
to dance away from pain 
just as before everything
you swirled in pink voile
following daylight’s 
hatchling butterflies
into a forest so safe,
green and bright-- 
summer’s scarecrow girl
giddy from the musk 
of the wild poppy


Love has always run through you
like a current 
but cannot save you now;
These dark angels gather around you--  
enough that they devoured you within
But should lean against you 
at the end, singing a "dies irae"
folding their sullen wings 
over their black hourglass bodies--

That one who betrayed you turns away;
he is a cinder whose inner light 
never was.
You touch your daughter’s golden hair
turn your face to the wall
the stars crackle and you whisper 
I’m coming to you, o maker
of the night moth, keeper of breath.

copyright Jenne' Andrews 2010


jen revved said...

as i said, don't know why blogger is having a hissy-- xxj

Reflections said...

Beautiful piece, tender, powerful, deep thoughts of this loved one experiencing such pain. Well done my friend.

Jingle Poetry said...

outstanding piece.
masterful writing...

Jingle Poetry said...


Happy Wednesday!
Welcome link in a poem to our potluck today.
Your talent rocks…
Keep sharing, stay blessed…