Edna's House
Out back, Edna
hangs pillowcases,
fresh as a line of sonnets.
Her rogue image,
candid in a nightie and tramp-coat,
displays robust charm,
to match her savage beauty.
to match her savage beauty.
We chat over wet laundry ―
I trust her with my tough secrets,
my edged tools.
It's easy; like having another
drink,
when you know you’ve had enough.
She tosses words like clothespins,
exhales slow, stamps a cigarette
in the grass, with a twist
of her Pulitzer shoe.
“Your heart is true”, she winks.
“You may pass”.
Tess Kincaid
February, 2010
Whenever I pass this little green house, I like to imagine my muse, Edna St. Vincent Millay, living here. It's far from Steepletop, but I see her, soft in her easy chair, scribbling sonnets late at night, before the fire.
That's fabulously fun Tess. Have you ever seen the actual inhabitant?
ReplyDeleteNo, Jeanette, I haven't. That's why I think it's so easy to envision Millay there.
ReplyDeleteThis is wonderful! So wonderful, in fact, I can just nod in mute enjoyment while I gather the layers to me.
ReplyDeleteLove the little house!
I have linked you today.
I love the last two lines. As always a pleasure when you read it aloud.
ReplyDeleteI love this..."tossing words like clothespins", God that's beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI can even smell that cigarette :)
I can't even fathom Ms. Millay granting me an audience, I swoon at the thought ...... this is such a treat, Tess!
ReplyDeleteFresh as a line of sonnets....she tosses words, like clothespins in the basket.
ReplyDeleteOh how I love the way that write Tess.
Felicity x
www.giftsofserendipity.com
A welcoming home and an inviting poem, Tess. Have you ever visited Steepleton? Mary Oliver did and ended up living there for several years. This is how she described it:
ReplyDeleteWhen I was still in high school, in 1953, I wrote to Norma Millay, the poet’s sister, asking if I might visit the poet’s home, where Norma Millay was then living. The answer was yes. So, sometimes, the emboldened young fly into their lives. I lived there, off and on, for a good number of years. I don’t know if spirits always haunt their earthly homes, but I know that sometimes they do. Her presence was everywhere.
Lorenzo, I've never visited Steepletop, but it is high on my bucket list. I'm sure her presence is still very much there. I've been obsessed with Millay since reading Nancy Milford's "Savage Beauty" when it first came out.
ReplyDeleteI just know that Edna would say those words to you. An A+ for this one...you certainly do pass, in all respects.
ReplyDeleteThis is so wonderful, the photo, the poem and the fantasy - absolute perfection and does just what poems should do - takes us on a flight of fancy straight into the heart of a dream! Loved it.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful and I love to hear you reading it.
ReplyDeletehow vidily wonderful:)
ReplyDeletei agree on the tossing words like clothespins line...that who stanza is tight...it is a cool house as well...
ReplyDeleteperfect
ReplyDeletehangs pillowcases to dry, fresh
ReplyDeleteas a line of sonnets ...
I like those words, too. Just wonderful
obviously.
ReplyDeleteI love a vintage smoke in a piece...
ReplyDeletePulitzer shoe...sweet.
Ah, I love this! I love that you read it to us! It is very true that some people have the ability to gain conversation from you like this. I posted my first Magpie Tale! This is such a great idea! So glad that I checked you out and joined in the fun! :o)
ReplyDeleteWow! Love the poem and hearing it read to me was delightful! What fun...
ReplyDeleteTess - you never cease to leave me in awe. The whole poem reads like a much longer story and the ending is flawless. I can imagine the whole thing using all my senses. Will the house photo be the next Magpie? I hope so because it is really an inspiring photo. Kristen
ReplyDeleteI've been enjoying your readings so much, Tess! What a delightful interaction with Edna!
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteWow, Tess.
You gave me chills.
Just beautiful.
And I haven't even heard the audio yet.
Tess this looks just like my little library in my home town. Wonderful lines and your reading it is like hearing Edna read it.
ReplyDeleteQMM
A great photo and a beautiful poem!
ReplyDeleteI REALLY liked it...
Love the house & the photo. Your blog is looking stunning these days ...
ReplyDeletelove from the snowy lands xo les Gang
A charming green house. An equally charming verse. I'd love to dream about both tonight!
ReplyDeleteWhat a great little house. I'd love to know who really does live there. Excellent poem--Edna must be smiling down and flattered.
ReplyDeleteTess -- Perhaps there are good reasons that you are taken with the green house and Millay living there.It appears that they were both born on the same timeline.
ReplyDeleteMillay was raised poor and was born in the latter part of the 19th century just as the green house type was becoming widely popular as a type of folk architecture. It was a house for people of modest means. Your green house is a "camel back" shotgun house. This type of house is one of my favorites and is associated with southern houses.The "camel back" is the second addition on the back of the house. Love the house and thanks for the very interesting post. -- barbara
I can envision her there too. You know I love Vincent too
ReplyDeleteOh, beautifully done. 3 elements woven so well, and I rather covet the green house.
ReplyDeleteNicely done Tess. And I love your imagination which is what I've been posting about for the past two weeks,albeit not as eloquently as you my sweet.
ReplyDeleteLiked the story, identifying with "Why do I trust her with my tough secrets, my edged tools?". Were you buying her trust? I too would trust a savagely beautiful woman who buys mail order sandals!
ReplyDeleteWhat an interesting encounter, during a mundane task.
ReplyDeleteYou've inspired me to read the poet. Thanks.
ReplyDeleteBarbara, fascinating stuff about this being a camel back shotgun style house, especially since it was in the same time frame as Millay. I know I'm psychic, but when little things like this happen, it still surprises me.
ReplyDeleteA charming house and fantasy to match!
ReplyDeleteLove your imagination, especially when it produces such lovely poetry.
ReplyDeleteEdna would be proud of this effort. I hope that you are as well.
ReplyDeleteWonderful -- and I think it's her birthday today!
ReplyDeleteWonderful words and a very nice thought. I’d place her there too.
ReplyDeleteYour reading brings everything you write to a higher level of excellence
ReplyDelete--though some pieces, such as "ms. st. vee and me"--were pushing against the ceiling before I hear your kindest of voicing.
Wunderbar! Peace!
Lovely house. When I first saw your picture I thought it was a chapel/church.
ReplyDeleteYes, it would be scary to confront (even casually, in "nightie and tramp-coat") one's muse, especially one who could toss words like clothespins.
ReplyDeleteOh, but you definitely pass (don't need me to tell you)! Thank you for this.
"She tosses words, like clothespins
ReplyDeletein the basket" -- your words draw me there, create a scene I can see. Love this!
I especially loved your description here, showing her larger than life status in a way though she's getting her laundry:
ReplyDeleteShe tosses words, like clothespins
in the basket, exhales slow, stamps
a cigarette in the grass with a twist
of her Pulitzer shoe.
Some great lines in this, and I loved the ending.
ReplyDeleteHey Willow, I often see my muse floating near the ceiling, or walking along with me in times I most need her! This was wonderful.. a nice house too..
ReplyDeletePS: One of your old Magpie photographs, the one for Mag40, the one of the Lord Anjaneya and beads.. I wanted to use that for a poem.. Saw a disclaimer there, so thought I'll get ur permission for it first.. is it OK? I'll give u the credits of course, in a format u tell :)
Wonderful writing, I loved the vivid imagery and 'fresh as a line of sonnets, her rogue image candid in a nightie and tramp-coat.'
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed every word. :-)
I dream that one day I'll be referred to as 'of Savage Beauty'. Those 2 words are exquisite.
ReplyDeleteMillie x
Leo, yes, please feel free to use the photo, and thanks for giving me credit!
ReplyDeleteI adore this, you.
ReplyDeleteI love tiny houses ... many writers have built and occupied them apart from their main spaces ... Here, as the spirit-house of a guiding muse, in winter (where the dead reside), it's the origin and destination of the walk, as well as the poem... Millay's presence in the poem is a marvel (those last 2 lines of the first sonnets are gold), and her blessing -- by way of your totem abandonment to the word -- is wonderful. I'm always interested to read how women relate to their muses, the outer artist / inner woman stereotype is purely linguistic ... Here you match steel for steel, as if to say that the female poet has a sort of warrior's affinity to the a masculine-inflected inner woman. Dunno if that's what you meant, but I read it there.
ReplyDeleteCouple of suggestions: 1) the title is too obvious. Maybe "Edna's House" with the first line changed to "Out back, my muse St.Millay" and 2) the ending is a bit too pat. There's something cloaked about the creator/muse relationship, a darkness which only the creator fully understands. You let us in on the secret a little too much. Still, the poem burns.
"she tosses words like clothes pins in the basket" love it. The house is adorable.
ReplyDeleteThat's a wonderful story about Mary Oliver. I had no idea she lived at Steepletop for awhile. YOu should apply to the colony. Once your chapbook is published! You get to stay a whole month at no cost and are served meals. Norma was alive one time when I stayed at the colony.
ReplyDeleteYou picked the right muse...I believe every word of this lovely poem!
ReplyDeleteI would love to talk with Sandburg-
ReplyDeleteNice work! grand interpretation. Thanks.
Thanks, blue, I like your suggestions!
ReplyDeleteFabulous 'words tossed in the basket like clothespins'...
ReplyDeleteAmazing piece... felt like I had strolled past, glancing in on your visit.
Gotta love those old houses.
What a beautiful tribute to your muse!
ReplyDeleteOf all your works that I have read, this perhaps is one of my favorites.
I wish there was an option to hear you read it. I do so love to sit and listen to you read your work, and have considered adding the feature to my own page!
Oh sure, now that I comment the listen bar is back. :p
ReplyDeleteWhat a vibrant, warm house and poem in the midst of winter cold.
ReplyDeletedelightful!
ReplyDeleteand you've inspired me to visit steepletop at some time....it is open for tours starting in may.
i remember walking by one of edna's nyc flats in the village, and later this month maybe i'll walk by it again and snap a shot of the plaque and house for you.... as i remember it is a very charming little house!
Praise indeed from the beguiling Edna! Nice one, Tess, from an evocative prompt.
ReplyDelete"fresh as a line of sonnets" is a great line and visual for me. Next time I hang clothes I will be smiling and remembering this lovely poem.
ReplyDeleteLoved, loved, loved it!
ReplyDelete"It's easy, like having another drink when you know you’ve had enough". I know how that goes.
ReplyDeleteDear Willow, Such a wonderfully curious house I can see being the source of your idea that a great poet or writer may live there. And, how skilfully you combine the mundane with the extraordinary....yes, even great artists must hang their washing on the line....but how beautifully they will do it, no doubt!!
ReplyDeleteFor you it was Edna living in the house; for me it was Emily...
ReplyDeleteIt is a very pretty little house, so very different from any house to be found this side of the world.
ReplyDeleteYour poem and imagination does it not only full justice, it enhances it.
Oh, Tess, you harken me back to my childhood. Such fond memories relate to laundry day and the hanging of the clothes. I used to walk between the drying sheets (folded in half across the line) pretending they were tents. I can still recall the sweet fresh smell of the sun and the breeze caught in my Mother's clean laundry. I can envision your muse in no better place than this. Great writing!
ReplyDeleteBu sohbet sitesi tek kelimeyle Muhtes. Sohbet Etmek ve Arkadas, Olmak için Arad? Seçmenin Faydalar?
ReplyDeleteWell Edna is one hell of a good muse. Poetry at its finest, a pleasure to read.
ReplyDeleteOf COURSE you pass :)
ReplyDeleteThis is just pure enjoyment! I love the idea that Millay would be your muse, for one thing, but that she would live in this little dovecote, is the stuff of dreams.
ReplyDeleteah. this is lovely, tess. you, too, toss words like clothespins into baskets. with ever so eloquent arcs.
ReplyDeletebtw your collection of peppermills is priceless. i've one too, from egypt, purchased years ago. it sits on a bookshelf as i've never figured out how to open it.
I thought that was wonderful. The image you give in your writing is so vivid.
ReplyDeleteBest, CJ xx
Wicked cool.
ReplyDeleteExcellent, Tess. I particularly like "She tosses words, like clothespins in the basket.."
ReplyDeleteOur Edna has been on the hive's
ReplyDeletemind, it seems, since one of her
poems appeared over on the
Writer's Almanac this week, and
I reposted the poem, and was
thinking about her still when I
read your stirring and touching
piece. Millay died too young, like
Plath, and it is lovely that you
have this "feeling" about her,
and that in your fantasy, you could
hobnob in night clothes, hanging
pillowcases and swapping the town's
gossip and your poetics. Is a "tramp-
coat" like a robe? The vibes you get
off the little green house is something
special, especially now that you find
out it is an appropriate Southern
camelback. But your encounter with
a poet that influences you spun me
off into that realm whereby we find
ourselves in dialogue with the famous.
So there I rushed off to, letting the
image of the little green house slip
away as the notion of my own dialogue
rose to the surface.
I'm stunned. Simple as.
ReplyDeleteGlenn, I like to think of a tramp-coat, as a worn old coat.
ReplyDeleteFresh as a line of sonnets! This is one of my favorites of yours.
ReplyDeleteIts stunning, something special.
Wonderful imagining, Tess. Wonderful poem!
ReplyDeleteOh wonderful! She is my FAVORITE female poet. This is such a charming tribute and an excellent poem.
ReplyDeleteWhat would it be like to have met her. I liked the subtle references to her own words.
Wonderful! Wonderful!
Willow,
ReplyDeleteTalented and famous are regular people when away from their element.
That's comforting to know.
rel
How clever Tess intertwining Edna St Vincent, the poetess, playwright, feminist and believer in open marriage.
ReplyDeleteThe line that has me really enthralled is "exhales slow, stamps a cigarette in the grass with a twist of her Pulitzer shoe." My imagination is running wild!
I came by at a great time. I do enjoy your muse. -J
ReplyDeleteI absolutely love this!
ReplyDeleteYou are so amazing! I love your creativity, and this was such a fun read.
ReplyDeleteTess,
ReplyDeleteThis reads so true. E St V M's image is a sophisticated one, and we would have to approach her -- really, anyone with a grand reputation? -- with deference.
Even silence.
On the occasions I've been face-to-face with someone 'of name', I swerve toward being noticed, and in so doing, I'm noticed as an idiot.
Good poem!
Trulyfool
I love the image of tossing her words like clothespins...You certainly have passed Tess:)
ReplyDeleteThought I was too tired for more things of this world, but I can't resist one more; bing in the tea. I'm dreaming of our return to ragged island, of switching our key for the one under the stone by the door in ME.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations, Goodnight.
ps Happy Valentine's Day
ReplyDeleteWhat a delightful poem and I am going to read again a couple of times :)
ReplyDeleteYou string words so fantastic Tess!!
Cheers
Padmavani
She tosses words, like clothespins
ReplyDeletein the basket
Love this line. As always your writing is so concise and every word hung on that clothesline to form sentences that come to life...
Excellent tribute to Millay...I am sure she is smiling....the edged tools...her bible.....bkm
ReplyDeleteYou have reminded me that I must get a book of her poems. Love your image of her.
ReplyDeleteWell done with a true heart!
ReplyDeletenice, and a bit of summer infusion. could use it right now
ReplyDelete"She tosses words, like clothespins
ReplyDeletein the basket"
my favorite line...
I like it! For a moment, though, I imagined Susan B's house here in Rochester!
ReplyDeleteRick
I memorized the final stanza of her "Renascence" as a teen.
ReplyDeleteYour idea of the sonnets on the clothesline, with words in the basket like clothespins, is remarkable.
excellent tess...esp. loved when she hangs pillowcases to dry, fresh
ReplyDeleteas a line of sonnets..wonderful
Truly poetry.
ReplyDeleteUtter brilliance!
ReplyDeleteWhat a delight, to read your poem and then to hear it in your own voice. Thank you, Tess. I'm trying to remember -- was Ms. Millay at the Manor Ball this last year?
ReplyDeleteLove the "nightie and a tramp-coat" combo. Great image. And then her "Pullitzer shoe" - wow. I loved reading this. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteTess- Happy Blog Anniversary! and thanks to you!!! I love this poem of yours- tossing words llike clothespins- simply brilliant!
ReplyDeleteHappy One Year Anni, Tess. :-)
ReplyDeleteHow I love this poem! And the photo, too. I'd like to visit that house...
ReplyDeleteMy favorite line is "fresh/as a line of sonnets" - you paint such wonderful imagery through your words.
Stunning piece - stunning.
ReplyDeleteDear Tess
ReplyDeleteIts interesting.. I liked it.
ॐ नमः शिवाय
Om Namah Shivaya
http://shadowdancingwithmind.blogspot.com/2011/02/whispers-another-kind-of-valentines-day.html
This poem is one of my favorites of yours Willow. I love the image of chatting with an idol over the backyard fence while hanging out the laundry. I'm printing this one out to hang over my desk at work. The images and ideas will brighten my days.
ReplyDeleteClever imagery and referencing. Long may your muse inspire you:-)
ReplyDeleteWonderful prompt and a great poem you wrote! Makes me want to go read some of her poetry right now! And thanks for visiting my blog. Happy Blogoversary!!!
ReplyDeleteOh, Tess, this is gorgeous!
ReplyDeleteWow!! And she sure has style, doesn't she? :)
ReplyDeleteGee, Tess... your imagination and creativity is going over the roof, lady!! This was just awesome!!! Like a movie, it played... smoooothly... :)
Acceptance into the tribe, eh?!
ReplyDeleteReally strong images. So vivid.
ReplyDelete"her rogue image
ReplyDeletecandid in a nightie and tramp-coat."
and "little matters or what gown/or what shows I wear"
You did her proud!
Thank-you for the fabulous prompt, Tess.
ReplyDeleteI have enjoyed it very much.
You've made me like Edna.
ReplyDeleteYou made me feel good inside.
ReplyDeleteThe image of your muse, Edna, scribbling sonnets in an easy chair, will also stay with me.
I am sighing over this...
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing the image of this little house with us. I would look at it long and long.
I love your wit and use of metaphors. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThank you for all your kind and generous comments. You make writing poetry so very rewarding. xx
ReplyDeleteDear Tess: Impeccable! Totally Perfect! Exquisite! Love the "Pulitzer Shoe" it is dreamy!
ReplyDeleteI know this woman! (My late grandmother!)
ReplyDelete:)
Sarah
Sarah! No way!! Are you serious?? I am absolutely over-the-top nutty for Edna St. Vincent Millay. Can I touch you??? ;^)
ReplyDelete