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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 .

Friday, January 6, 2012

Rilke Variation - Jenne' Andrews - Snow on Roses



Snow on Roses

You see, I want a lot.
Maybe I want it all:
the darkness of each endless fall,
the shimmering light of each ascent.

Rilke  Book of Hours II

Suddenly the earth is holy again
covered with millions of tiny mirrors;
robed in ermine

The great Russian diva of the air
passes in her sleigh.
the trees quietly bear the snow
like corpses upright in the caisson

While it continues on across the morning,
a sifting hymn to we, who arrested
by such untouched whiteness, watch it collect

On the withered roses.
Indeed the world breaks the heart
with its alternating beauty and terror

How unseen hands make their determinations
around and through us
we who are lords of light

With our coffee and manuscripts
and then, like hybrid angels of
imminent night, work on in
the long-armed and deepening cold.


 copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2011

4 comments:

Ruth said...

Beautiful, Jenné. You capture Rilke's sense of things so well, the tension of seemingly opposing forces. I was reading Tolstoy and feeling this sense of grandness that is also simplicity of winter. Indeed the world breaks the heart . . .

So bittersweet and lovely.

Maureen said...

Wonderful epigraph to use as your inspiration.

No one should doubt that you are able to internalize Rilke in a way that lets you uncover through poetry layers of meaning that work themselves into the most beautiful images. You use those images - "great Russian diva of the air" robed in ermine, "hybrid agnels of imminent night" - to stunning effect.

Beautiful poem, Jenne.

Lorna Cahall said...

Thanks so much for this. It is so richly evocative.

jen revved said...

Thanks so very much, each of you-- someone made a joke that I channel Rilke, which I highly doubt-- and that would be scary!-- but something transpires I don't understand...xxxj