Poetry

It's the last day of April and the last day of National Poetry Month. I'm glad poetry has a month of official recognition and tribute, but I sometimes sense that only endangered vocations are awarded such months (or days). There is no need, I suppose, to give the NFL a particular month. I don't actually believe that poetry is endangered, but I think it is true to say that it is often thought of as an odd, unambitious sort of pursuit.

Edward Hirsch wrote a thoughtful column about poetry and walking in The Washington Post. Walking helps him enter into that drifting state of mind that he needs when he writes. Walking does this for me too. Running, actually, does not. I come back from running with too many endorphins swirling in me, which is a great feeling but not necessarily a good preparation for poetry. Poetry requires a certain stillness, and running stirs up the silt. So walking works well, and so does sitting quietly. It might appear as indolence, but it's not. It's a way of emptying myself so I have space for poems. It's a way of preparing.

You can read that Hirsch column here:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2008/04/17/AR2008041703573.html