April 23, 2020 Poem “Window”

Barn at Red Oaks Farm (Photo: Leslie Schultz)
 


Window
 
 
If eyes are windows
to the soul,
then do panes of glass
allow us to pass
into the spirit of a house,
a ship, an old barn?
 
One cavernous space,
now a wrecked cairn
of splintered wood
once stood
against snow and wind
at the home place
 
where my husband was born.
Though now disappeared,
like a rejected draft, torn,
carted off, I recall its cool
majesty on a hot day;
the scents of long-ago cut hay
 
mingling with motor oil,
alfalfa, and old timber;
the way its echoes would change
the timbre of my voice
to undersea splendor;
and the way the sun poured
 
like transcendent, light rain
from the high window
above the always-open door.
Unprepossessing from outside,
the barn held an ample store
of quiet dignity inside.
 
 
Leslie Schultz


The real-life orientation of this photograph is a quarter-turn to the left. This barn at Red Oaks Farm, where Tim and his siblings grew up, was long, like a semi-circular stand of wooden hoops or like a stand of juniper, low against the wind. Recently, it was the wind that did it in, flattened it like a cardboard box. Somehow, though, it looks right to me this way, and so the print I keep on my desk has this orientation, and it was the inspiration for today’s poem. Here are some other images of that now-disappeared landmark.

Priming the barn at Red Oaks (Photo: Leslie Schultz)
Photo: Marea Mohr (April 2019)

Thinking about windows this week makes me smile because so many people (in Northfield and probably in every city) are placing stuffed toys in their windows to cheer children lonely for their friends. Walks with their parents in the spring sun can turn into a bear hunt or toy safari. I started participating before Easter, and just recently found one a bear large enough for a child to see easily from the street. (It was one that Julia was given by Mary Alice Sipfle at my baby shower, and it was a great nighttime comfort for our daughter, twenty years ago, when the two were the same height.)

Yesterday, because my door was open, I saw a flash of tiny red sundress–like spotting a cardinal for just a moment–and heard a small voice say, “Look, Mama! It’s a BEAR!” A girl, maybe three years old–about as high as an American Girl doll, come to think of it–was walking beside her mother (who pushed the stroller). The mother was wearing a flowered sundress. Both of them looked so peaceful and connected to each other that it made me feel a little bit nostalgic. (I am prone to that these days.) I am glad I happened to overhear that snippet of conversation, because I was thinking that our street seems to be mostly construction workers grinding old asphalt these days, and that maybe the bear looked a bit ludicrous and woebegone.

Today, I think I will open the cupboard under the eaves and see if there isn’t a friend in there who could join the bear in cheery sentry duty.

Happy Shakespeare’s Birthday! LESLIE

Though this year my poem for April 23 is not inspired by William Shakespeare, of course, on his 404th birthday, he is on all of our minds! If you are looking for a short, lighthearted birthday waltz with the Bard, take a look at this video from the Great River Shakespeare Festival called “Shakespeare’s Test Kitchen” or watch along as at 9:20 CST 154 actors participate in a marathon reading of the sonnets. (Thanks to GRSF for the image above!) Here is information about how to participate–though you might have to type in (rather than click on) the links below, as I copied them from an email.

Sonnet Marathon with LinkedInOur very own Doug Scholz-Carlson is taking part in the first ever #LinkedInShakespeare Sonnet Marathon today, on Shakespeare’s birthday! He will be one of 154 actors/readers reading all 154 of Shakespeare’s sonnets LIVE, to #supportthearts.

At 9:20 CST, Doug is dedicating his reading of Sonnet 149.

You can watch LIVE on LinkedIn at bit.ly/livewithlila or on YouTube at bit.ly/youtubebetter on 4/23, or catch the replay for FOUR DAYS ONLY at either link.

To get a FREE ticket and reminder, or to donate to a bonus fund that will go to one of the 154 organizations represented, go here: bit.ly/LISHAKESTIX

Though theaters are dark, people are still bringing the light! Join us!

And don’t forget, for all of you who enjoy the sonnet form, to consider submitting a sonnet or three to the annual Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest, also sponsored by the Great River Shakespeare Festival. You have plenty of time–the deadline is June 1!

4 thoughts on “April 23, 2020 Poem “Window”

  1. Yes, that is what I hope for, too. Of course, I am thinking of our dear friend, LaNelle Olson, and how that was certainly true for her even unto her last hour, despite physical woes and dementia. I felt that was the case with my father-in-law, too. So I know it is possible, but it is still rare. I wish I knew how to ensure that fate for myself, but I don’t.

  2. I’m embarrassed to admit that I’d never thought about window panes being an avenue to the soul of the building or ship. I love that idea, Leslie. To start with that and then end with this: the barn held an ample store
    of quiet dignity inside.
    Magnificent. I guess I hope that that ample store of quiet dignity is in all of us as well as what we build!
    A poem to mull over on this wintery spring day!

  3. Cheers to Windows! BTW — What a wonderful thing to do! (To put stuffed animals in the windows.) As for the question in your first stanza, I don’t know — they say you can’t go back… Anyway, thank you for your poem, photos and story.

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