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, July 14, 2011

New Poem - Die Verlorenen Schwan

Please note that I am featured poet at One Stop Poetry today...

American Ballet Theatre - Swan Lake 

Die  Verlorenen Schwan

This laboring of ours with all that remains undone,
as if still bound to it,
is like the lumbering gait of the swan.

And then our dying—releasing ourselves
from the very ground on which we stood—
is like the way he hesitantly lowers himself
into the water.

From The Swan, New Poems, Rainier Maria Rilke

The swan of my grief
Lingers in the shallows

Is something so exquisite
meant for tears?

The memory of flight
Trembles in the folded branches
Of my wings.

I sail out
In the black mask
Of my doubt.

My heart cries out
To the crepuscule
It calls back to me

Where are they
Meine Verwandten
My kind

Meine schwestern
My sisters.

I tell you
I am a swan in chains.

But you, west wind,
With your calling card
Of feinting larks

Move and move me
Until I am a hand
Sorting diamonds.

I take to the air

And leave a blue-winged shadow
Of exultation
Upon the water.

Title: The Lost Swan

Marta Gottfried Print: Cygne Morte


copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011
All Rights Reserved


James Rainsford said...

Quite simply brilliant. I love the imagery, and the wonderful economy of language. The Rilke quote provides the perfect introduction. Loved it! James.

Lewisstyle said...

Such quiet beauty, a great series of metaphors that pulled me in and held me to the end.

The memory of flight
Trembles in the cartilage
Of my wings.

my favorite line. I love the grace of this poem.

Maureen said...


Mama Zen said...

Excellent feature at One Stop. The poem about the state fair is spectacular.

erin said...

i feel a transformation taking place. love the play of:

The memory of flight
Trembles in the folded branches
Of my wings.

again, it feels like transformation, one thing slowly taking up residence as the next, until finally diamonds on the water and flight. beautiful writing, jen.


Zoe said...

Wow, this is so poignant! My heart ached for that lost swan with her exquisite grief. Beautifully written - it is like ballet in written form. Sigh. What a flight!

Shashi said...

The poem of Rilke is beautiful and perfect back ground for your own... I liked the deep sense of helplessness and with your lines...
'The memory of flight
Trembles in the folded branches
Of my wings.'
... it got accentuated more... I could relate to this poetry a lot...
Thanks for sharing...

ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya