Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Mississippi Poetry-Sort Of

If there be grief, then let it be but rain,
And this but silver grief for grieving's sake,
If these green woods be dreaming here to wake
Within my heart, if I should rouse again.

But I shall sleep, for where is any death
While in these blue hills slumbrous overhead
I'm rooted like a tree? Though I be dead,
This earth that holds me fast will find me breath.


In order to calm my sister, Maverick, I thought I would find a poem that mentioned Mississippi. But, there are no famous or immortal poems in my books that give homage to the magnolia state. Instead I turned to a past resident of Mississippi, William Faulkner. I have to admit that I don't quite get this poem, and I have even taken a literature class that focused solely on the novels of Faulkner. (Yes, I did take that class electively. Loved it. Taught by the then dean of undergrad studies at FSU, Elizabeth Muhlenfield.) Let's just say that Faulkner was a much better novelist and short story writer than poet.

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