Wintering Prairie
by Megan Kaminski
Published by above/ground press, 2014.
and this poem
will be a long one
will widen will
drift like snow
like language like
dribbles and artic chill
will stretch to
Dakota fox alone in the field
to field mice
buried deep
will follow the
compass’s pull magnetic north
Even in this fragmented
excerpt from the first page, Megan Kaminski’s momentum
feels unstoppable, peering and pushing forward as both the stranded pedestrian
and flurry. True to its name, Wintering Prairie pits the reader in the throes
of weather and geography but merging those hopelessly broad forces in ways that
feel fresh. Throughout, Kaminski presents the darkest, coldest
season in clumps of active transformation, using small leaps of language to
create a patchy vista. She doesn’t disguise the continental reach of her muse,
either; eschewing recognizable beginnings and endings, Wintering Prairie picks
up mid gust and surveys a relentless accumulation.
Double-spaced in
page-long, single stanzas, these poems resist titles in favour of a
lone capitalized opening word which, like a deep inhalation, distinguishes one
tangent from the last. That stream-like layout reinforces the text’s linear examination,
tracking the snowfall along a longitudinal stretch of Plains, Kansas.
Long shadows and
sun-melt spread
across lawns
across asphalt
neighborhood strip
mall and shop
spread west past
town into farm
past county line
and field
cottonwoods on the
river
switch grass and
bluestem crowd
over limestone
around barbed fence
With that
notoriously flat topography in mind, the locomotive quality of Kaminski’s lens
gains further traction. And the more ground she covers, the more her
snow-covered redundancies create a white veil, erasing all but the corners and
outskirts of things, and motivating our senses to fill in the blanks. We begin
to understand Kaminski’s sense of place in lieu of an actual view; earthy peepholes (“water-logged field brown grass brown / twig on ground on branch”)
and ephemeral senses (“hawk-call and chimney-smoke”) invoke signposts the
reader can readily associate with, guiding us through a prismatic makeover.
I carry absence
I carry want
I carry body ache
on this bright
day
Wintering Prairie
doesn’t shy away from the season’s barren hostility and yet there’s a cozy,
snowed-in feeling each time I pick it up. Kaminski scrubs her language clean of
graceful qualifiers and the resulting hop-skip-jump prompts visceral, wide-eyed
associations on the page. Examining cycles of climate and vulnerability,
Wintering Prairie emboldens the landscape poem with an almost unrecognizable force.
No comments:
Post a Comment