Merwin
 

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/03/15/o...-laureate.html

The heroes of one's youth as a poet are going. For me, only two remain.

I'm saddened by this news. The obit was a good tribute to the man and the poet.

John

Rest in peace. I met him once briefly many years ago at an L.A. Times Book Festival, where he had a book signing after his reading. He signed for me a copy of his book-length poem about Kauai, The Folding Cliffs. (He also pointed out--and interlineated his correction to--a publisher's typo in the book!)

My favorites of his are still that very long poem, and this very short one:


ELEGY


Who would I show it to

I met him only once, in the DC airport. I was going on a fishing trip and was dressed accordingly. When I went up to him, he seemed a little nonplussed.

Sometime in the 70s, I collected W. S. Merwin from the airport for a reading in Kansas City. How to make smalltalk with a legend?? I complained that we had given up planting backyard tomatoes because the critters always ate them. He said, "That's no reason to give up." Um. End of conversation. But...I still remember it, blushing.

Barbara, maybe you should have planted palms. The critters eat all my dates, but that's fine with me.

We were in Maui last May. I had no idea Merwin lived on the island. We drove through Haiku on the Road to Hana. The conservatory he and his wife have established flew under the radar of our trip planning, so we never knew.
After hearing the news yesterday I spent a good part of the day revisiting his writing and his life -- neither of which I knew much more than the perfunctory amount. As often happens when I’m turned around by someone or something, I wrote. --My own small expression of inspiration to a Sun of a poet who now shines brighter, warmer than ever, on my back:

(Edited by Mark McDonnell)

A relevant Merwin poem that someone sent me.

Separation

Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.

Barbara, that's a lovely story.
Merwin wrote the line "other half of grief," which blew me away and which I wrote a poem from. I sent it to the conservancy and didn't hear back, but didn't really expect to. I once drove the road to Hana, before I knew Merwin's poetry, and it's a lovely, isolated road. I guess I'l post my poem here.


(Edited by Mark McDonnell)
 


Cheers,
John