Winter Poems [ペーパーバック]

If you know the illustrations of Trina Schart Hyman, you won't be surprised by the utter beauty of this book -- but what makes it really stand out is the quality of the poetry selections in tandem with the lovely layout and artwork. This is truly a work of art in every sense of the word, literary and visual.

This thin oversize book---bought on a whim when my four were young, because I'd grown up with Hyman's illustrations--became a staple of my kids' childhood. They pulled it out in October, in lovely anticipation of coming snow. We read it in spring, as we prepared to face the summer's heat. In fact there were years when this book was never put away at all.

It's charm is not just one of selection, illustration or layout, but all three and much more, too. Barbara Rogasky selected modern and old works of poetry both nonsensical and profound and, married to Hyman's wonderful watercolors portraying life in their chaotic, shared Oregon house, these works just come alive. In fact an adult, too, can easily sink into the big, crowded Hyman/Rogasky farmhouse right along with their children. This is a purchase that parents will want to keep for their grandchildren. Mine stands by.

I hardly ever pick up a book of poems any more. But today during the last period of class on Friday, during what we call exploratory for middle school students, during which time six students were helping process books for checking out, "Winter Poems" came through our assembly.

The cover illustration by Trina Schart Hyman caught my eye--fat snowflakes falling straight down, brightly clad children going obout the business of playing. I thought it would be silly poetry, but listen to this one, so mysterious:

"Cat, if you go outdoors you must walk in the snow.
You will come back with little white shoes on your feet....
....
I will bring you a saucer of milk like a marguerite...
stay with me, Cat. Outdoors the wild winds blow.

Outdoors, the wild winds blow, Mistress, and dark is the night,
strange voices cry in the trees, intoning strange lore....
Mistress, there are portents abroad of magic and might,
and things that are yet to be done. Open the door!
by Elizabeth Coatsworth

That last line took me so by surprise!

Or this wonderful descriptor:
"Winter dark comes early
mixing afternoon
and night.
Soon
there's a comma of a moon
....
by Lilian Moore

or this one by Wallace Stevens:
"Among twenty snowy mountains,
The only moving thing
Was the eye of the blackbird.
....
It was evening all afternoon.
It was snowing,
And it was going to snow.
The blackbird sat in the cedar-limbs.
by Wallace Stevens

And Sara Teasdale, and Emily Dickinson, and Robert Frost, Carl Sandburg--many of the greats are represented by this thin volume of winter poems. So pull up a chair, pour a cup of tea, wrap yourself in a soft blanket, and open a book of winter poems. Can you feel it, hear the crunch of snow underfoot, smell the crisp air?