Black Cat Press
$15.95
Poems to sip like blackberry wine
Kirsty Karkow of Waldoboro has done it again. This sailor-paddler-poet has turned out a second slim volume of Japanese-influenced poetry, using the traditional haiku, haibun and tanka forms.
The first book was Water Poems; now we have Shorelines to dip into for a special treat, like a bite of fresh sushi.
Anyone who has written anything from a letter to a term paper can probably relate to this:
silent mornings
in a room of my own
meditative
the long walk of wet ink
its trail across the page
Fortunately for us, she writes in English, not Japanese, and she is deft, adroit and delightful in her playful yet profound way with words. Shorelines is a book that fits as neatly into your hands as its themes fit into its brief poems.
The poems are short, but their effect is long.
I’m reminded of a friend who likes to remind me that less is often more. These images in words — as sensual as if you were actually there — extract the essence of our Maine coast, of our abruptly different seasons, of our enduring passion for this place and our relationship to it, and to those people who share our lives.
These poems will tell you that Karkow is a sensitive, accurate observer of our coastal environment. But she is more than a reporter. She is an interpreter, painting reflections for us. She does, in fact, do watercolors, and one of them is on the cover — wish there were more.
The author and her husband, Ed, sold their sailboat, Freya, after years of cruising. So now Kirsty kayaks, and hugs the shore she has admired for so long.
Who, as the years roll by, couldn’t relate to this:
the flotsam on my inner shore
somewhat collected
I sit on sun-washed sand
listening to loon calls
Karkow’s poetry possesses a certain energy and light; it filters experience through the lens of a poet who is passionate about our natural environment and at one with it. We need people like that, and we need people who can help us see our wondrous coast and our place in it.
That doesn’t mean we can’t thoroughly enjoy ourselves, either, and maybe be a little mischievous and provocative. Reading a poem, like sailing or paddling or being in love, can be liberating:
poetry
its meaning carried
on the breeze
scents of fields in flower
undone buttons on my blouse
I commend this book to all lovers of the coast, to all of who heed our daydreams and feel the smooth stones under our bare feet. Sip these poems. They are blackberry wine.
Kirsty Karkow will read her work and sign books Aug. 11 at the Abbey at Farrow Farm, Islesboro.