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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 .

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Poem for One Shot and Beyond...

Please note that I've been featured at Poets United-- thank you! 





On the Death of a Lover

for E., and for all time. 

As we are so wonderfully done with each other   
We can walk into our separate sleep
On floors of music where the milkwhite
cloak of childhood lies…”

Kenneth Patchen


My dearest, dark-eyed love.
Didn’t we climb stairs
Of rapture together
Up into the crowns of the oaks
Where the night hawks soared, fell
And shot again skyward
On starlit wings

I remember their cries
Or were those ours
In the dark, the candle burning down
Eyes to eyes
You, whispering “teach me”

I, folding at the foot of the bed
The peach peignoir
With every dropped stitch
Of my reserve

You, holding me
When I wept with shivering joy
Your declaration 
At the lake’s edge
Summer day blue and blazing
Its pigment so thick and sure

And so it has come to pass,
She writes-- the one who gave you
The steadfastness I could not

That you shed the coat of life
And took to the air
Set free of the prison cell
Of decrepitude, spared
Further troubled breath

You wouldn’t know me now
Consume me as you did
This broken body
This woman in ruins

Writing to you in the violet seas
Of summer's midnight
fractured, spent, undone

This obituary
To my willing
Yearned for
Night-mourned love.



copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011

8 comments:

Maureen said...

Truly a beautifully lyrical poem.

hedgewitch said...

Vividly painted, deeply felt, a sure and simple love poem, whose echoes of precise detail lend it strength--esp liked the description of the "blazing blue day" as you might describe a painting in oils, "so thick and sure..."

jen revved said...

deep thanks to Maureen and Hedgewitch...xxxj

Kerry O'Connor said...

Beautiful, painful, and quite terrifying in its finality. This really made me stop.. imagine myself in that situation.. and tremble.

Timoteo said...

I seldom get a physical response of goosebumps and chills while reading poetry, but this one did it..something on the order, perhaps, of your "shivering joy," without (unfortunately) the sated afterglow.

jen revved said...

Thank you Kerry and Tim. Such fulfillment comes with a price years after the fact: this, as you noted, finality. xxxj

Luke Prater said...

Tragic and beautiful... emotive as the author would have it be

jen revved said...

Thanks very much, Luke...xxxj