Songs of
Eretz Poetry Review is
pleased to present “Brambles” by Carol Hamilton, Poet of the Month. Ms.
Hamilton will also be serving as the guest judge for the Songs of Eretz Poetry
Award Contest, which will run from September 1 to October 15, 2015. A detailed biography of Ms. Hamilton
may be found here: http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/2015/08/songs-of-eretz-poetry-review-poet-of.html. The contest guidelines
may be previewed here: http://eretzsongs.blogspot.com/p/songs-of-eretz.html.
Brambles
Carol Hamilton
In Ohio we children feasted
disappeared from sight of the kitchen window.
That is where the Devil landed
when Michael threw him out of Heaven.
We returned scratchy-armed and stain-lipped.
Evil crept down our attic stairs
and up from the wooded ravine.
We left there confused and tainted.
Still, it was our only magic house,
long-lawned, rooms perched in the treetops.
We learned then how sweetness
has prickly edges, there where we set out
on our long journey from Eden.
Poet’s
Notes: This poem began as a piece about
my children and how they spent afternoons under the berry bushes outside our
Ohio home set at the edge of a forest. Our home there and the woods made a
fairy tale setting, but it also was, it seemed, haunted. It was a wonderful setting but not an
especially happy time. When I learned about Michael throwing the Devil into the
blackberry brambles, imagination got to work. The editor at this journal
suggested the poem would be stronger if I wrote it as if I myself were the
child telling my story. I usually do as an editor suggests unless the advice
does not seem warranted. More often than not, their ideas make for stronger
work.
Editor’s Note: Do children still have experiences such as those described
in the poem? I wonder . . . . When I was a lad, the discovery of a boysenberry
bush or even onion grass provided sustenance for hours and hours of
unsupervised, semi-arboreal adventures.
“Brambles” reminds me of those halcyon days that I so enjoyed.
These days,
it is unthinkable for parents to allow children out of their sight. Play in “the wilds” has been largely
replaced by organized, supervised activities far from any “brambles.” Somehow, that makes me sad. “Brambles” was originally
published in The Sow’s Ear Poetry Review.
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