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Stanza in Blue

Everything is dead and has gone to heaven.

A bicycle recollects mornings on rain-drenched streets,

roses remember growing, family photographs

recall being intact, books are the angels

of having been read. Curtains drape an afterlife

of sky, outlets and doorknobs soften,

lamps stoop and crane sunflower faces south.

A bed is a cloud in every life, but here sleep

comes in the form of train sounds and thunder ...

Statement about the writing of “Stanza in Blue”:

I’ve written about the room and the space just outside the room in ArtHouse 6 in this poem. I’ve also taken into account the fact that the room was worked on during the period of isolation as Covid struck. The first line came to me as I lay in bed, in that suspension of blue, thinking about the room and about what words might match such a landscape, and then the images of the objects remembering their past lives followed. I had spent time looking closely at the objects gathered and thinking of what they meant and being affected by them, and by the features and elements of the room that were transformed by the color, and then when night fell, the sounds around and outside came in and changed it all again. Place has such impact on creation, the way light falls, the way sound travels. It felt like a form of heaven, being in that room, like everything was dead, like it was that kind of suspension, and that was of course also relevant to Covid and to the poem that initiated the installation. Everything frozen until the self is frozen as well. A preservation with just a shimmer or shadow of loss.

Jennifer Militello

© 2020 Wolf Like Me / Collaborative Craft

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