April 7, 2025 Context for Poem “That Rocking Motion”

(Photo: Teresa Williams Showy Ladyslipper: Garden of Bob Bensen and Tricia Smith

In 1902, the Showy Ladyslipper (Cypripedium reginae) became Minnesota’s State Flower. It was never common but now, due to loss of habitat, it is endangered. It has been protected for 100 years; sellers and growers–few and far between–require special permitting.

When I looked over the Rosendahl glossary for the letter G, I was delighted to see that a familiar astronomical term, “gibbous,” has a botanical application. A gibbous moon appears “swollen” somewhere in its cycle between half- and full- phases. In botany, certain plants, including the ladyslipper orchid, are also described this way. Once I knew that, I thought about the nutured (and legally sourced) ladyslipper I had encountered in my friends’ Northfield garden. The first time I saw it in bloom it bowled me over. This morning, as I came down the stairs, I saw the Gibbous Moon slowing sinking in the west. Today’s poem is an homage to these memories and to this plant, such an intricately beautiful harbinger of spring.

(Photo: Leslie Schultz, The Bensen-Smith Ladyslipper, Northfield, 2019)

Hoping that you will see fresh signs of spring today!

April 6, 2025 Context for Poems “Sometimes Love” and “Just After Dawn”

Photo: Leslie Schultz “Union Terrace–UW-Madison”

The botanical term for today is “filiform” which (again!) is derived from Latin, this one from the word for “thread.” It is related to the word “filament.” I fell in love with its sound. Immediately, it made me think of spider webs–not botanical or accurate–(although I see that late Latin used the verb “filare”, meaning “to spin”). Now, I suspect, the spider web will join with “filiform” in a persistent association for me. And it offered me a chance to share again some favorite images from past posts.

Today, after “catching” two slight poems, small webs of words, I needed to disentangle myself.

It is sunny here and will be warm and lovely. The house is quiet. It seems like the perfect time to tackle those self-renewing sticky indoor spider webs that old houses simply generate without permission or cessation, and also to ply some thread in the borders of a small wall quilt that I am finishing.

(Photo: Leslie Schultz Window–Winchester Mystery House, San Jose, California)
(Photo: Karla Schultz Dewy Web)
(Photo: Leslie Schultz Spider Web, Winchester Mystery House, San Jose, California)
(Photo: Leslie Schultz, Frozen Web, Our House)

Wishing you a happy Sunday!

April 5, 2025 Context for Poem “Baltic Amber”

(Photo: Andy Choinski/Pixabay)

Did you spot the botanical term in today’s poem? Good for you!
Rosendahl defines “exudation” as “sap, resin, or milk that has oozed out, usually dried.” I thought first of the milky substance that weeps from broken dandelion stems, then thought of Baltic amber and the shores of my distant ancestors–Jutland, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Prussia, Britain.

It these frightening days, it helps me to think of geologic time, even as we strive to protect our own world.

Upcoming: National Poetry Month! My Final “Poem-A-Day” Challenge & Daily Posts on Literature I Love (April 1 to 30, 2023)

Winona Street Garden in Snow

In Northfield, as I write this, snowbanks still prevent clear visibility for drivers, but in the past few days the thaw has begun. Perhaps one reason that April is especially appropriate for National Poetry Month is that it is a month so full of swift changes in weather, landscape, and growth, at least in these temperate zones. I look out now on rotten mounds of snow and growing patches of muddy soil but I know that by April 30 there will be a translation to the sweet smell of green grass, clouds of new green leaves overhead (where currently bare branches stand against the sky), and blooming plants everywhere. A painter’s palatte of color after a loooooong season of blue and white.

Garden of Quiet Listening, Carleton College Campus (2022)

For the eighth–and, I believe, last time–I am going to tackle the Poem-A-Day challenge. As I have done for the past couple of years, I will write a new poem each morning and then email the “catch of the day” to those who wish to receive it. Here on the Winona Media blog, I will spotlight something I love by another poet or writer, and I will also include a note on the back story for that day’s poem.

To receive my poem each day via email, just send me an email at “winonapoet@gmail.com” and I will add you to the list. (If you received the poems last year, then you’ll be on the 2023 list unless you let me know that you want to opt out.)

I hope that you will find a little extra time for nature and art, in whatever form you enjoy most, in this new season of Spring 2023!

April 1, 2017 “Sonnet Despite Rain”

NaPoWriMo 2017 April 1

Sonnet Despite Rain
for E. K.
 
I have a friend who sings each time it rains,
who might, for all I know, dance in it, too.
Even the melancholy moans of trains
sliding through wet nights take on a lighter hue
for her, as if, speeding down now-slick tracks,
all the freight cars are crammed with happy news—
checks, cards, and letters spilling from mail sacks,
all addressed to her, rain-washed clean of woes.

I like the idea of a gentle rain
coaxing flowers from dusty, barren ground
each April, inciting swells of bird song.
Yet actual rain clouds bring me real pain—
drumming their melancholy tapping sound,
insisting my day and my world are wrong.

Leslie Schultz

Check out other participants at the NaPoWriMo Challenge 2017 home site!