Carried by a song of words
I read a book of poems straight through without stopping. I couldn't help it.
Last week I hung out with ten other writers at a writing residency. Even more than the gifts of unstructured time, wholesome food, perfect writing weather, and trails for walking, I prized the week of collegiality with writers working in various genres. It’s not every day you get to eat breakfast with poets and novelists.
After hearing one of the poets talk about writing, I became intrigued, so I tracked down a volume of her poems (some of which were originally published in this magazine). One evening after dinner I eschewed wine and socializing, hid in my room, and read her book straight through—45 poems in all.
The whole time I read I felt guilty. A voice inside kept saying, This is the wrong way to read poems. You should savor them, reread the ones that puzzle you, linger over each line. After all, this is one of my mantras as a seminary professor: We read too fast; slow down!
