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Rev. Joey N. Welsh: On the Poetry of Emily Dickinson Another Angle. Not the Usual Poetry for Valentine's Day was first published 19 February 2006 in the Hart County News-Herald To see other articles by this author, enter "Rev. Joey N. Welsh," or "Another Angle," in the searchbox. The next earlier essay posted on ColumbiaMagazine.com is Recalling Christian martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer by The Rev. Joey N. Welsh Valentine's Day 2006 is now past. We have endured the jokes, the e-mails, the candy hearts, and the cards with corny and sentimental verse. Now, at long last, we can go on to other things, other poetry. One of my own very favorite poets is Emily Dickinson (1830-1886). I never have my one-volume book of her collected works very far away, and I find fresh insights in her words every time I read her poetry. One of her poems recently stirred my memory of an incident from my childhood. My grandfather was taking me fishing; he preferred to fish with bamboo poles we would assemble after we selected our spot by one of the huge pools along Brashears Creek in Spencer County. He had no use for rods and reels. To get to his favorite spot we had to cross several fields and go through a few gates (or over the fences). We were in the middle of one field when my grandfather stopped, grasped me by the shoulder, and told me to be still and listen. At first I heard nothing, then I noticed the peaceful parting of some of the weeds and grass a few feet ahead of us, accompanied by the gentle rustling of the growth. I was about seven years old and nearly as short as the weeds were tall. As we stood there silently, something made its way across our path, then kept on going. The hair stood up on my neck. It was surely the most frightening creature I never saw. After a few moments my grandfather spoke again, "That black snake was a big one, maybe six feet long." I asked him why we didn't kill it. He asked why I would think we had any right to do that, since black snakes did no harm and actually did a lot of good. Besides that, he went on to say, we had no reason to be angry about encountering a snake in a field. I should remember, he said, that we were the ones who were tramping through the snake's living room on our way to the fishing hole. That snake I never saw came to mind again as I read one of Dickinson's poems the other night. Dickinson did not have many of her works published. Only a handful were printed during her lifetime, some without her permission. She was particular about the structure and punctuation of her works, and she feared that printers might want to "clean them up" or "correct" them according to the prevailing proofreaders' standards of the day. The poem I came across had appeared in print in 1866, on Valentine's Day, in a newspaper in Springfield, MA. She later wrote to the editor to complain that some extra commas had been inserted, and they impeded the flow of her thoughts. She was not pleased with her poem as published. It is a great poem, I think. It not only reminds me of my childhood, it also helps me to realize that we are not too many weeks away from the time when nature will reawaken from winter, growth will begin anew, and cold-blooded creatures will be stirring with vigor. This poem, originally published on Valentine's Day 140 years ago, also reminds us of the care we need to take whenever we go tramping through nature's living room. A narrow Fellow in the GrassThe copy above conforms to that given in The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson.E-mail: joey_n_welsh@hotmail.com This story was posted on 2010-02-21 03:52:39
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Everybody can participate in the Backyard Bird count Rev. Joey N. Welsh: Recalling Christian martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer Rev. Joey N. Welsh: Black History Month, some sports history Sound advice to inventors of Sled to Beat All Sleds Trail cam use is observing nature in its purest form Rev. Joey N. Welsh: From The Mouth Of Satchel Paige Rev. Joey N. Welsh: Can we get along here? Dream of Coming to Adair Co., KY began Aug. 3, 1998 with first land purchase Old Coddger doesn't want gumment involved in paint schemes Rev. Joey N. Welsh: To Take A Licking, And Keep On Ticking View even more articles in topic Commentary |
 
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