WELCOME! BENVENUTI!

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 .

Friday, September 30, 2011

New Poem for Friday Poetry Fest and Beyond: How You Love

Posting this poem for Friday Poetry Fest-- join us.



 How You Love

You say to yourself I am nothing
But how is that so
Child of the wind, child of gardens

Ever singing your psalms to time, to graves
Never dug or planted—
How the ashes of the beloved
Have been slow to set themselves free
Of your small young hands

These reckonings made in morning
And of a sudden on the blacktop home
Inquiring of where home is, latitude
of old houses leaning back on the night?

Child of the psaltery of horses
Of the newborn thing you succor
Breaking from the body cast
Out of the shell, rocking room to room
Companioned by the mute light, the pinon fire
The evening star, the emerald innocence
Of alfalfa fields below an orange sky.

Come in and sit with me and I
Will tell you stories, soft and uncertain
Long grown semblance
Keeper of the undiscovered score
Gardener at the devotional
Of  hybrid roses

Lover of white horses, unwilling
sexton of lost keys, picker
Of locks and of sweet corn, forlorn
Then liberated, scorned, self-
Redeeming, in the blue
and cooling afternoon. 


copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011

2 comments:

Maureen said...

This has a lovely cadence; it's soft, even romantic, like a sweet song in the early morning hours. I especially like the lines "Companioned by the mute light . . . orange sky."

Timoteo said...

Hard to pick just one line, but I do so like:
The evening star, the emerald innocence/of alfalfa fields beneath an orange sky.