There are few who don’t already know and enjoy this volume of Billy Collins, his fifth collection, The Art of Drowning (University of Pittsburgh Press, 1995). It has held an extra-special place in my own heart since 2015. Back then, Tim, Julia, and I had made plans to travel by Amtrak to Amherst for some east coast college visits, to visit friends, and (for me) to fulfill a long-held ambition to visit the home of Emily Dickinson. Well, we had to cancel those plans abruptly for reasons beyond our control. It was the rational decision, but it was a body blow nonetheless.
What consoled me then was rereading (by chance, so it seemed–hmmm, I wonder?) Collins poem, “Consolation,” the first in this collection. The poem is humorous, filled with sonorous sour grapes. It made me laugh. And then it sparked an homage poem, also called “Consolation,” by me about the aforementioned college visit trip’s cancellation. And today, these memories tie in to the topic of my poem for today (see below).
The whole volume repays reading and rereading. Collins humor with an edge remains keen for me, even instructive, even as I see my own copy is losing its pages, falling apart at the seams. No doubt Collins would find a metaphor it that!
Background on My Poem for April 12, “Stormy Weather”:
Regrettably, today’s slender lyric is a slice of life rather than a large-scale metaphor. Tim and I had planned to attend the workshop with poet Melissa Range, scheduled for this evening at the Blue Heron Coffeehouse in Winona, Minnesota. Hazardous weather alert for the whole of the region (accurately accounted for in the poem!) made us reluctantly decide not to risk the two-hundred mile round trip. (Maybe April is the cruelest month, after all? After all my rhymed and metered protest in the sonnet “April Exhilaration: In Praise of Northfield, In Response to T.S. Eliot”? Perish the thought!)
Happy Reading! Happy Writing! Stay Safe and Dry! LESLIE