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 .

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

New Poem: Why There Are Stars, for DVerse and Beyond...

Why There Are Stars

For Gyorgy Vidacs

I hear on a September Sunday
that the metronome of your heart
stopped, so that sometime
in the night, alone in your tent, you
free-fell through eternity’s blue fathoms.

You once spoke to me of the soft
skin of my shoulders; we sat in your dark cabin,
sipping wine.
We went out to scan the stars, and you
whispered, Look at the man with his violin,
to the west.

Look now, George: there is a constellation
no one has noticed: it is a metronome
set like a clock to the gallop
of the human heart. 

And above where you slept
in the chaff of the High Park Fire,
in the ashen circle where your house
was, still the man playing a violin
in the sky's flaring wilderness.

I would not have had you fall asleep
alone, in the ashes. But look now, old
friend --high in night’s cupola,
seraphic forms bear you home

to the banks of the Danube,
where the friends of your boyhood
come back to the cafes,
and the stars keeping time
to your indelible loneliness
pulse and disappear. 

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2012


Maureen said...

Lovely and melodious, Jenne. There's a sense of loss but also revival and hope. I like your use of the metronome, that eternal clock we can count on.

Timoteo said...

This touches me (but in a different place than where you usually touch me ;)

Anna Montgomery said...

A beautiful tribute to a man who clearly touched the hearts of his community.

Kim Nelson said...

I am struck by the melodic cadence of this piece in combination with musical references and inferences. This could be a psalm from old, mourning a loss but glorifying the next stage.

Brian Miller said...

i would not have you fall asleep alone...that to me is the heart of this verse...and some great textures surrounding it...the man with the violin...the ash...it all plays well into that...

Ann Grenier said...

Your first stanza made my own heart skip a beat. I can barely write the words "dying alone...". Beautiful poem, poignant, heartwrenching.

Anonymous said...

Lovely poem - I found the end especially moving - the Danube, the cafe, the loneliness, the stars. k.

Anonymous said...

PS - such a sad story. k.

flaubert said...

Beautiful moving piece, Jenne. What an incredibly sad story.


Claudia said...

wow this is beautiful...such an atmospheric piece..the violin player..scanning stars..i would not have had you fall asleep alone..that makes the heart of the piece for me..beautiful

Dick Jones said...

A beautiful threnody, graceful and dignified. A fine balance of memoir and metaphor in the writing here.

Fred Rutherford said...

love the tone here. Some really strong imagery and a really nice job crafting the lines, some really stimulating word choices. Nicely done. Thanks

Berowne said...

The blue fathoms of eternity. I've fallen through those too.