Wednesday, May 16, 2012

I have a new book!

Well, how about that? I've been slowly working way on a compilation of my poems, and now it is complete. I received lovely blurbs from Robin Chapman and Pat Schneider. It is availabel on Amazon and pretty soon you'll be able to search inside.

What I love about this is that I'm putting no pressure on myself, and yet the book is miraculously complete. I hope you like it. Many of the poems I've posted here are included.

Quietly meditative, occasionally witty, and sometimes (this is a compliment) a little strange. The Spaces Between gives to the pilgrim, to the seeker, to the solitary heart in each of us a map back to ourselves. 
~ Pat Schneider, author, Writing Alone and With Others, and founder,
Amherst Writers & Artists

I loved this book. Attentive to the wild interior and natural worlds, Ann McNeal’s poems of daily meditation take us into spaces of freedom, feeling, search, and faith: the now where “without expectation/ something opens.”  ~ Robin Chapman, author of Smoke and Strong Whiskey and the eelgrass meadow.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Death of a Poet, an Appreciation

Death of a Poet—
                        for Wisława Szymborska

There’s a hole where you used to be.
No, that’s not quite right,
there’s a lot remaining—
in your poems’ wit and compassion,
and perhaps in your apartment—
shelves of books, well-worn pots,
dishes both cracked and shiny,
bedclothes, plants, a cat dish,
but all these objects will disperse
and roam to other places,
find other hearts or at least homes.
The memories of you remain with
your friends, your admirers
who knew you daily or never saw you once.
I don’t know your life, just the reflections
of it in your poems,
the bumblebee bumping the windowpane,
the soul that is there, as you said, sometimes
then vanishes when it’s time to do taxes
the percent of people who deserve compassion, 99,
who are mortal, 100.
There’s a hole where you used to be
you who had the nerve and generosity
to give us such fire and ice.
I hope to catch your spirit by the sleeve
before you leave entirely,
whisper Thank you.