One of My Favorite Poems

After reading the quote from Elizabeth Barrett Browning (see my last post just moments ago) it reminded me for some reason of my favorite poem in college.

I was a sophomore at the University of Utah and had just declared my major -- English. I was in my first required class to move forward with the degree. Dr. Phil Sullivan was my professor and I LOVED my class. It was fabulous. He had us reading so many different things... discussing so many different ideas. I wish sometimes that I could go back - especially now that I know more and would get so much more out of the discussions. I don't know if Dr. Sullivan is still there. I would be surprised if he was, but would love it if he was still teaching. He was one of the best professors -- so good in fact that I never forgot his name (I can't say that about most of the others -- oops!). He had us study a lot of works from The Norton Introduction to Literature, fourth edition. It was in this book that I found my favorite poem. It's fitting that my favorite professor introduced me to my favorite poem, don't you think?

A little about the author. Marge Piercy was born in 1936 and from what I can tell is still alive and publishing. (Love it!) She wrote a poem called, "September Afternoon at Four O'clock." I'd like to share it with you (is this allowed? I'm not sure but I hope so. I love this and want to share it!). I printed this out after our class discussion and hung it up in my room. Printed copies were so horrible back then -- it was not a very dark print, but I loved it. I had it forever until it finally faded away. I think I need to print a new one for my desk. I love reading this over and over again. Such a lovely way to describe life.

September Afternoon at Four O'clock

Full in the hand, heavy

with ripeness, perfume spreading

its fan: moments now resemble

sweet russet pears glowing

on the bough, peaches warm

from the afternoon sun, amber

and juicy, flesh that can

make you drunk.

There is a turn in things

that makes the heart catch.

We are ripening, all the hard

green grasping, the stony will

swelling into sweetness, the acid

and sugar in balance, the sun

stored as energy that is pleasure

and pleasure that is energy.

Whatever happens, whatever,

we say, and hold hard and let

go and go on. In the perfect

moment the future coils,

a tree inside a pit. Take,

eat, we are each other's

perfection, the wine of our

mouths is sweet and heavy.

Soon enough comes the vinegar.

The fruit is ripe for the taking

and we take. There is

no other wisdom.

Isn't that beautiful? I hope you enjoy it too.
Enjoy!