POEM: "Winter Palette"
A tiny poem on finding beauty in the barren.
One of the first lessons of creative writing is “show, don't tell.” The second: “now make it new.” It's what sets apart a basic description (“roses are red, violets are blue”) from the ones that really move you or make you think (“each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor”1).
Perhaps one of the trickiest tasks as a writer, at least in my own opinion, is tackling the issue of color. Sometimes the best course of action is to resist the temptation to “overdescribe” and just state the colors simply. “The Red Wheelbarrow” by William Carlos Williams does this perfectly. The point of the poem is in its simplicity. If Williams had tried to described the redness of the wheelbarrow or the whiteness of the chickens elaborately, the genius of the poem would have been lost. Another great example is Sylvia Plath's “Tulips,” in which the repetition of “white” draws the reader’s attention and allows the images to stick. Other times, a longer or more surprising description builds the image, such as the “pointed pines” of the ocean waves in H.D.’s “Oread.”
The challenge of masterfully handling color within poetry (and all forms of creative writing) is one that could keep any writer busy for a lifetime. Personally, I'm glad of it. The precarious nuance of color and light within this incredible spectrum of a world we get to live in will forever delight me.
And so, I share with you a timely poem of mine titled “Winter Palette,” which was published in the Spring 2024 Literary Journal from Calla Press. I can't claim to have handled color in a way that is “masterful” or “genius” as in the works mentioned above, but I do hope this short piece leaves you thinking about the richness of color that can be found even in the midst of the most barren seasons.
WINTER PALETTE
Ochre like grass that sleeps
till spring; slate like skies
just breaths from dusk, like
shadows on snow. Grey as mist
stretched taut then pinned
down at horizon, edgeless.
White that is broken, glinting,
somehow both barren and bright.
Browns of every sort: soaked
bark, naked branches, soil
frozen two dozen inches deep.
Palest of blues that permeates,
that seeps in softly.
*This poem was originally published in the Calla Press Spring 2024 Literary Journal.
P.S. Calla Press is currently accepting submissions for this year's Spring Literary Journal, which has the theme “Living in Wonder.” Click here for more info, and be sure to send them your work ASAP to be considered for this amazing PRINT publication!
Loving this in your voice!
Beautiful!