To move from the ideal to the material, Rob invited a number of local poets to contribute one line, and seventeen of us responded. Now the text of this new poem has been published–through the medium of paint and the industriousness of our by former and current directors of the Northfield Public Library, Teresa Jensen and Natalie Draper–on the steps leading up to Bridge Square from the Riverwalk in Northfield. The poem is the collaborative work of 17 local poets: Heather Candels, D.E. Green, Steve McCown, Susan Jaret McKinstry, Leslie Schultz, David Walters, Mar Valdecantos, Christine Kallman, Becky Boling, Marie Gery, Tayde Rodríguez, Lucy González Mirón, Diane LeBlanc, Alondra Pérez, Riki Kölbl Nelson, Karen Herseth Wee, and Toni Easterson. The poem was painted onto the Riverwalk steps in late summer this year. Below, you can see images of eleven of these poets near their own contributed line. (See the Northfield Public Library website now to see a photograph of a Poet Laureate Rob Hardy at the podium, and look again at a later date to see images of all the participating poets.)
We all need joyful news and celebrations of community spirit. Last year, our Poet Laureate, Rob Hardy (who is also a classics professor) conceived an idea to create a modern twist on the classic Greek form of the rhapsode, which literally means “to sew songs [together]”–a beautiful concept, one I imagine to be rather like creating a lyrical quilt.
As edited–or rather woven, stitched, and shaped–by Rob Hardy from the raw material of submitted lines, here is the complete poem:
We come to the river starry-eyed,
across bridges reaching out to neighbors
over the river’s rushing waters: nuestro río
está lleno de vida y vida para nuestras familias.
Two deer, silent as shadows, bend & drink.
Clouds tumble and lift, kiss and part.
Train sounds shape our dreams.
Linger here till the wind shifts,
under sun’s sweet touch and winter’s raw chill,
the funk of damp moss, sweet hints of sap.
In fish and flood, in unmoving stone,
the river remembers, stirring up the waves
of childhood, so melancholic and so eager.
Listen to the words of these speaking waters:
calling my name to the south, to the north calling yours.
Hermosas esas corrientes de agua que llevan
tantos recuerdos tristes y felices pero dan un placer
de verlas correr a través de nuestro lindo pueblo.
Listen. The river tells us where it needs to go.
Much more durable than a traditional quilt, this community effort is likely to endure for many years to come.
