This week’s poem, “First Fig,” by the ever clever Edna St. Vincent Millay, is quite different from the other short poems I’ve memorized in that the others have had a zen sort of quiet, and a modest, internal spaciousness, whereas Millay’s feels packed to bursting with wit. You may have noticed that my aesthetic leans in two very distinct lyrical directions–the short, quiet meditation that I just mentioned, and the dense, image-rich metaphorical poem. Millay’s, obviously, is neither. Nor do I currently subscribe to the sentiment in Millay’s poem. But with each posting I make, I learn. And there are a couple of things I want to learn from Millay this week–the brevity of cleverness built into the very sounds of words, and such perfect marriage between content and form–
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light.Original Post: http://melissastuddard.blogspot.com/2012/10/the-mnemosyne-weekly-poem-thirty-five.html
This is a small representation of the high-quality writings you’ll find in every issue of TIFERET.
We receive no outside funding and rely on digital issues, workshop fees, and donations to publish. If you enjoy our journal’s verbal and visual offerings, we hope you’ll consider supporting us in one of these ways.Click Here to Purchase Digital Issues