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, October 3, 2011

Poem for Monday....

The Horse Flower

I remember touching him
through the soft dry wood
of corral rails, one morning in June
when I was seven.
And his flank was as smooth
as the felt of a good sombrero.
But he was cottonwood golden,
sun-shot, completely
in his otherness.  Then my wonder:

How does he feel
about the sun, my hands,
the new alfalfa mowing
at our backs,
or being penned
for so long without

My godmother, Ann:

He's a valuable quarterhorse, Jen;
Stay away from him

Over her shoulder, going in with Mother
into the adobe for tea at the hearth,
pinon consolations.

So I watched the palomino 
stallion Leo McCue
who breathed on my jacket,
rubbing his head on the post,
the New Mexico doves
nearby yet low-voiced.

Then, I climbed in,
as one would reach for a pearl-bright shell
on a first visit to the sea.
We simply stood, near each other
and neither of us moved away.

From chapbook, The Dark Animal of Liberty, Leaping Mountain Press, 1987.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews  all rights reserved. 


Reflections said...

Lovely is the inquisitiveness of the child, awed by the wonders of animal life... I was always fascinated by the mighty steed, standing tall above the rails, peering down at me as well.

Kim Nelson said...

You honor those who write in similar veins before you. I felt relationship budding and building, ebbing and flowing, between the characters both human and equine.