Winter trees and Next Generation Poets 2014

It’s only a week now until the shortest day in Scotland and the sun sets in the late afternoon at present. One of the pleasures of a cold and bright winter’s day – and we get a good share of these on the east of Scotland – is getting rugged up (an Australian expression for wrapped up), going for a long walk and enjoying the last of the sunshine. On a recent walk near Smeaton Gardens  in the village of East Linton (good photos), my wife and I enjoyed seeing the setting sun through the winter trees. The photos below show the elegant outlines of the bare trees against the blue sky and the illuminating sun. George Szirtes‘ has a poignant and humorous poem Winter Trees :

Aren’t you cold and won’t you freeze,
With branches bare, you winter trees?
You’ve thrown away your summer shift,
Your autumn gold has come adrift.

Dearie me, you winter trees,
What strange behaviour, if you please!
In summer you could wear much less,
But come the winter – you undress!

Winter tree at Smeaton Gardens

Winter tree at Smeaton Gardens

Winter trees at Smeaton Gardens

Winter trees at Smeaton Gardens

Winter trees at Smeaton Gardens

Winter trees at Smeaton Gardens

With my latest Choice from the Poetry Book Society came a booklet featuring the Next Generation Poets 2014 – see cover below. This project, subtitled Twenty Exciting Voices for the Future is a selection of what is regarded as a list of the most promising poets of 2014. Most, but not all, poets are in their 20s and 30s and have recently won prizes for their collections. On the project’s website, you can click on the names of individual poets and see examples of their work. I’m only half way through but have already enjoyed poems by Sean Borrowdale – on a honeycomb “Its tear-easy skin of skeletal reef/(Best use of space for minimal effort”; Rebecca Goss – a poignant address to her 2nd child – “So extraordinary was your sister’s/ short life, it’s hard for me to see/ a future for you…. [But]…Come and hold my hand, little one/ stand beside me in your small shoes,/ let’s head for your undiscovered life, your mother’s ready now, let’s run”; and Emma Jones – from Waking – “There was one morning/ when my mother woke and felt a twitch/ inside, like the shifting of curtains./ She woke and so did I. I was like a bird/ beating. She had not time for anaesthetic”. All the links to the poets cited include videos of them reading poems.

Next Generation Poets

Next Generation Poets

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