Saxon Henry :: How a Sense of Place Colors Home
There are a number of tweeps JB and I share in common so many of you know, through my intensive efforts to put the word out, that I’m posting my memoir about my experiences in the mission field bit-by-bit on The Road to Promise, hoping to get a book deal. Wish me luck, I will be meeting with a handful of agents on April 29 during the ASJA Conference to see if I can garner representation after a little over a year of hard work! For those of you who have not yet stopped by my blog, I’ve been in and out of Costa Rica in the material, building churches in a string of villages tucked into the banana fields along the Caribbean coast with my then-husband Jim.
My story is as much an exploration of what it takes to forge a writing life as it is about the mission field but there is plenty of that woven into the plotline as well. As I sat reading on job site after job site or whizzed between one small town and the next shuttling supplies to the churches, I took every opportunity I could to make notes in my writer’s notebooks. It would take me years to work some of the material into poetry, which was always my aim, and a great deal of credit goes to Tom Absher, my professor at Vermont College (I did my undergraduate degree in my late thirties and early forties after these experiences had made a mark on my perceptions). He taught me the hard lessons of sculpting away dross, which was tough at first but paid off in the end.
The poem “Near Puerto Limon” is an amalgam of experiences, one of which was an exploration of sound in this post on Road; “The Burden of Coincidence” is a piece that grew out of our days on the Native American reservations of South Dakota, which is where we make our way after Costa Rica. Those days in South Dakota, and later Alaska, were dark ones for me. I guess it shows in the material. What do these have to do with home? Where we make our homes colors every facet of life. I watched as the Native Americans struggled within the isolation they faced locked away on “the rez,” their despair almost too much for me to bear, and I saw the gentle souls of Costa Rica beat life back from their doors on a daily basis as they barely survived. Meanwhile, I had a wealthy life and plenty of abundance, my homes notable within the communities I called home over the years. I hope the poetry speaks to you. I will have a new post up on Road tomorrow so if you want to see the latest installment, I hope you will stop in. Deepest gratitude to JB for giving me this opportunity and happy #TravelTuesday, tweeps!
*******
NEAR PUERTO LIMON
In Costa Rica, banana trees spill themselves
beneath the tressled paths of trains.
Machetes rasp as cords are severed
and workers turn. Hooking fruit to wire,
they send it sailing.
Near Puerto Limon, a lizard clings
to the pitted screen
wrapped around the kitchen.
I’ve memorized his impotent smile,
the stern, unblinking candor
for which he has no lexicon.
Does he lie awake at night
as the woman next door
fills her backyard concrete sink
with unwashed bowls
or does he rest, unchanged,
while the plundered tree
still leans into its phantom weight?
*******
THE BURDEN OF COINCIDENCE
-Lower Brule Reservation, South Dakota
I’ve been given a room where a bent fly swatter
and a Niobrara Cross on a beaded chain
hang on a nail by the dresser.
My window faces where Crazy Horse
and Iron Nation Streets converge —
a vacant corner since a housing project
was lifted from the soil. I watch
as children scatter, tossing fire crackers
onto the dirt. Each time I flinch
like my mother’s poodle when he was smacked
for nervously chewing his own skin.
This hem of the prairie is splattered with light
punctuating the Fourth of July. In the church next door,
the priest reads Psalms about the righteousness of giving
while the washing machines in the laundromat mouth
Oh God.
~Saxon Henry
Published in Skidrow Penthouse/Volume 2
*******
Note from the Hosts: A real pro and a real sweetheart, we are honored to have another real live author post to this site. Her book Four Florida Moderns is available here >> http://www.fourfloridamoderns.com/Site/Blank.html. She has written for leading publications, and while it is often hard to keep up with her on the web, I know she posts to Roaming By Design, The Road to Promise & Design Commotion Magazine. Her Twitter profile says simply — “A woman in love with words.” Follow her now >> @SaxonHenry. She was recruited (Tagged!) for this project by Cindy Frewen Wuellner (aka @Urbanverse). And she has also been known to hang with another BMoxie fav @concretedetail. Thanks again Saxon . . . and chicken soup to you.
-
-
That’s the strange thing about poetry, a poet never knows what it is in a poem that’s going to stand out to anyone else. I actually felt like I captured something dramatic by saying the housing project was “lifted” from the soil, similar to how a dead person’s body might be “lifted” from the ground. I could have used lots of words there but kept at it until I knew that lifted was the poetic word of choice. Thanks for the praise! I’ll post the “dross-y” version and the final one on Road some day so you an see the difference. It is often pretty dramatic!
-
-
-
Thanks so much, Tammy! It thrills me to be putting these pieces out into the world after having worked on them so long ago. I still feel as if they have a present-day freshness to them, which makes me so happy. One never knows when they write something whether the pieces will stand the test of time. It feels like they are holding up very well! I so appreciate that you took the time to comment. It means a great deal to me!
-
-
A woman in love with words indeed! These are two beautiful examples of your work, Saxon! Thank you for sharing them as well as bits of the history which molded the words to form from your experiences. I am struck that despite taking such time to transform the notes to a completed work, the feelings of the moment remain. In allowing ourselves to really be present and participate in these moments, I certainly agree that one would be deeply impacted by them.
Warmest wishes to you in your endeavor toward a book deal. May you find continued success and fulfillment through your writing!-
Oh thank you, Paul! What a wonderful thing to “wake up to” this morning (though I’ve been writing since 4:30, I don’t “engage” until after the deeper creative work is done)! It means a great deal to me that you think the vibrancy of the poems are intact. One of my biggest struggles in working my poetry at VC and afterwards was the fear that the revision process was ripping out the heart of the poems, rendering them stale and dry. It is a danger when working material but I somehow found a way to maintain my footing with these and others, while some weaker “specimens” did not fare as well.
From your lips to the writing gods’ ears! With people like you spurring me on, it gives me more courage to keep at it! Thank you for that!
-
-
- Comment Feed for this Post
I have no idea why, but this is my favorite line – “vacant corner since a housing project was lifted from the soil.” Maybe the imagery. Saxon, I’m not sure what words you removed as “dross,” but the ones that remain are very evocative and paint a clear picture.