Poetry Day - Being different
I found myself quoting Bruce Smith this week, not that I walk about with a head full of quotable Bruce Smith, but a line of his was apt. So I thought I'd share with you a poem or two he wrote. Bruce Smith was a lecturer at our local Moore Theological College, among other institutions, who taught mostly in theology and philosophy. He also ran reading groups, taught classics at a local grammar school and published two volumes of poetry. You can read more about the man, his work and his legacy here. Also, Greg Clarke has written an article reviewing his poetry, originally published in Kategoria, that you can read here. This poem below is not unlike, in it's subject, this poem I posted by Auden.
Being Different
Some trees
just drop their leaves
when summer's done
as though the business
of feeding on and fending off
the summer sun
has been hard work.
Exhausted at the season's end
they throw aside their working things
and enjoy the rest
that winter brings.
Other trees
have one last fling
when autumn comes.
They quickly change
their well-worn greens
for all the colours
of a sunset sky
and in a riot
of reds and golds
they celebrate —
and spare no thought
for what winter holds.
In addition to these
there are some trees
that stand apart
from their demonstrative neighbours.
With intense reserve
and foliage intact
(or so it seems)
they show no emotion
at changes of seasons.
For being so different
no doubt they have reasons
— we all do.
Bruce L. Smith
I'll not pretend
Picture from http://espanol.wunderground.com/data/wximagenew/s/Snowfire/94.jpg.