As I’ve gotten older, things that might have been simply interesting or intriguing, but I didn’t have much time for, have become more significant, sometimes surprisingly so. I “discovered” the importance of art; we now spend considerable vacation and free time at art museums. I read more about art; I buy exhibition catalogs and even read them.
It’s true as well for family history. As I move, or inch, closer to the end of my life, where I and my parents came from has become more important. I discovered genealogical resources online, constructed charts showing my forebears, and tracked down family stories to see if what my father had passed on from his father was true. It’s how I discovered my great-great-grandmother was a descendant of John Alden and Priscilla Mullins of The Courtship of Miles Standish fame (yes, they were real people). And it was how I discovered a treasured memory my father had of his grandfather in the Civil War was, well, mostly fiction (my grandfather may have been a wonderful spinner of tall tales).
British poet Ian Seed and American poet Stephen Pollock grapple with some of these same themes of grief, death, and the concerns of older selves.
To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.
Some Tuesday Readings
On Longevity – poem by Paul Wittenberger.
Poetry as a Means of Grace – Jim Orrick at Christ Over All.
“Ozymandias” by Percy Bysshe Shelly – Sally Thomas at Poems Ancient and Modern.
Lately, when I awake desolate – poem by Laurie Klein at Every Day Poems.
“The Second Coming” by William Butler Yeats – Rabbit Room Poetry.
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