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 .

Monday, August 1, 2011

New Poem for Monday

Palimpsest Child

I have given her many reasons
To keep on, this small thing
Inside me—beautiful soft-eared dogs
Plush toys, remarkably
Life-like dolls, drawing paper and pens.

She is tired, she says.  She doesn’t want
To be asked to take the next jump
Any more.  She wants to lie down
In the cool stream and become water

She wants to merge with the first star
Of evening.

She has tried adulthood
And found it empty and long
And grueling and hard.
She sabotages our appointments
She says
I can’t do that: don’t make me do that.

I say to her, dressing her,
Taking her by the hand, heading
To the door
But you can, you have
And you are.
We are brave together.  We two
Face it all.  Don’t you remember
We rode a horse to a mountain top
We have a house with beauty in it
It’s our very own, our harbor,
This house.

For the record, I say to her, I am not a mother.
I do not want a child, an unhappy and fearful
Who nags and nags at me
To save her from herself.
But here you are
We’re stuck with each other.

I take her to the door
And we stand blinking in the sunlight
We take one step toward the car
And the next, and the next.


Copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011  jenneandrews2010@gmail.com 

1 comment:

Maureen said...

It's said the first step is the most difficult, the test to see which side is the strongest. I think it's the step after the first step, and then the next, and then the one after the last.