I'm trying a new feature on the blog today, one tentatively called Conversations, in which a writer's offering is posted for comments and responses. These need not be "critiques," as such, though I think most writers would welcome intelligent suggestions. Rather, this is to be a way for authors here in the mountains and elsewhere to engage each other in lively discussions of their work. The first feature is a poem by William Everett, novelist, essayist, scholar and poet. His website is www.williameverett.com. PLEASE LEAVE YOUR COMMENTS. LET'S SEE IF WE CAN GET A CONVERSATION GOING ACROSS THESE RIDGES!
She is ready,
purse packed,
hands pocketed in resolution,
standing by her charge.
Will she fly through puffball clouds,
piercing azure heavens like a needle?
Or will she cruise majestically across the land,
blowing tumbleweeds and sagebrush in her wake?
Perhaps the sea shall feel the power of her legs,
the undulations of her mermaid form.
For she is ready,
her glowing hair pinned sleekly back,
the keys clutched in her hand.
She is the girl with the ’55 Plymouth fins.
---William Everett
I really like this poem. The girl with the 55 Plymouth fins is a great line. I wrote a poem about my first car and compared it to an elegant, but risque lady.
ReplyDeleteIt seems cars are often referred to as female. My sisters old 1946 car was named Arabella. I wonder what kind of names others have given their cars and why.
I wonder why cars are considered female, Glenda. Pick up trucks are male, of course. I never named any of my cars, but they have had a real, almost human, presence in my life. And when you think about the names that have been given to the various models, that opens up all sorts of images.
ReplyDeleteI like the mystery that this piece offers and then more or less resolves in the last line. It's fun to read and then think about.
Marvelous initiative, Kay! Thank you. I wasn't thinking about names of cars so much as the way the car -- especially the first car -- symbolizes our independence, our dreams of doing something fresh and new, the new-found power of maturity, the keys to our future. I'm glad it spoke to both of you (even if the fins on the '55 Plymouth were only anticipations of the finny years to come).
ReplyDeleteI love that we don't know if this is a young girl with an old car or a grande dame off on an adventure; makes my imagination start gunning its engines, either way!
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