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 .

Sunday, April 29, 2012

New Poem: Nomad, for Magpie Tales and Beyond...

 To join Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tales meme click here....

Image:  Manu Prombol

My first instinct, when I see that you
are once more immersed in reading

Lonesome Dove for the tenth time,
is to call you to me.

Live, don’t read, I say;
don’t run away from me into that

long and winding story.
Then I remember the years

alone in my bell jar bedroom,
where the hard-bound frontier

sagas were thick oak doors,
their pages a sheaf of jailer's keys;

that I could bandage my wounds, slip out
to the patio,

throw my great-grandfather's Calvary saddle 
over the adobe wall and race then
toward the pinon smoke scenting
the indigo distance—

Apache campfire, braves drumming home
a prodigal rider.

copyright Jenne' R. Andrews 2012


Laurie Kolp said...

I love to read. This is great, Jenne. Especially like-

where the hard-bound frontier

sagas were thick oak doors,
their pages a sheaf of jailer's keys

thingy said...

What a glorious image you have presented,

Brian Miller said...

i hear you on this...i started a poem the other day on the progression from actually living to read, then tv, then video games, then what...

lonesome dove is good though...i like the characters...but i also like the double meaning in the title

Tess Kincaid said...

So evocative...I love the scent of leather...the jingling of keys...the smoke in my eyes...

Little Nell said...

Ah the power of ‘immersion’ in a story. Beautifully described.

Berowne said...

I really liked that smoke in the indigo distance...

Maureen said...

Wonderful response to the image, Jenne. As always, great imagery representing the "hard-bound frontier".

Helen said...

Your poem is alive with emotion, colors, textures, adventure ... I enjoyed it!

Sean Vessey said...

As always you have journeys of the heart, mind, body and soul to the edge and beyond

Anonymous said...

Wonderfully compassionate and human. k.

Anonymous said...

Wonderfully compassionate and human. k.

Anonymous said...

Great poem. It really is possible to become completely immeresed in what we read.