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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 .

Sunday, June 26, 2011

For One Shoot Sunday -



Photo by Adam Romanowicz


Kyrie

The field of light has gone scarlet
For the sake of the angels, the ones
Fleeing a regime, their boat
Fracturing in the shoals.

And the rocks, moved,
Take to the sea
With their heavy hearts.
Eternity receives them
With her long pink arms.

Your myths of redemption
The curiosity of your genuflection
The artifiact of your apologies.

None required.  We are not wrong
In our mercy toward the fallen:

If she drowned her child
Or suffocated her, does it matter.
Love and rage and ruin


And then we swim out
Into the sun-fired sea.


cc

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews
2011

5 comments:

Alegria Imperial said...

To say that your lines never fail to demonstrate the power of poetry hardly adds to your skill, craft and gift, does it? But mortal that I am to a goddess of poetry, say it I must, while I lay down bouquets of heavenly jasmine at your throne. I love this poem, love how the light turns onto the object of such light and color, "the sunfired" in the end. Thanks, Jenne!

Maureen said...

You have the impressive ability to create startling images, such as "angels.../ Fleeing a regime, their boat / Fracturing..." The abstract and the concrete (If she drowned her child / Or suffocated her...") combine here in a moving way.

jen revved said...

Ali-Maureen-- mille gracias... xxxj

Mary said...

What strength and depth your poem has! You're right, it doesn't matter if she drowned or suffocated her child.

Do check "Poets United" today. You have a featured poem.

Fine Art Prints for sale by 3scape Photos said...

Thanks for the mention! Original photo found at http://3scape.com
-Adam