Poetry Sunday: January by John Updike
In the northern hemisphere, we are now in the dead of winter, even as many in the southern hemisphere scorch under unbearable heat waves.
John Updike, of course, was a New Englander, and the winter he describes in this short poem is a New England winter. It might still be accurate, although I doubt there are any milk bottles bursting outside the door!
January
by John Updike
The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
John Updike, of course, was a New Englander, and the winter he describes in this short poem is a New England winter. It might still be accurate, although I doubt there are any milk bottles bursting outside the door!
January
by John Updike
The days are short,
The sun a spark,
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor.
Milk bottles burst
Outside the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees of lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
That is nice verse. The milk bottles are indeed gone but everything else is still as it was.
ReplyDeleteI think that this was is the first time that I have seen Updike’s poetry.
He was an accomplished poet, even though it is not what he's known for, of course.
DeleteI am old enough to remember when milk was delivered to the doorstep. In glass bottles too, not enshrouded in plastic.
ReplyDeleteI am old enough to remember our milk being delivered in the family cow! The joys of growing up on a farm.
DeleteI never knew that John Updike wrote poetry! Gotta love learning new things.
ReplyDeleteHe's not much known for his poetry, I think, but he was quite accomplished.
Delete