~ Jane Blanchard ~
A native of Charlottesville, Virginia, Jane Blanchard studied English at Wake Forest University before earning a doctorate from Rutgers University. She currently divides her time between Augusta and St. Simon’s Island, Georgia.
The drive from hill to shore takes long enough
For tensions to subside and tongues to cease
The harried hype of home and work, the stuff
From which taut brains and bodies need release.
Upon the beach the noontime laser sun
Hits hard on pasty, soft, and supple skin
As frothy surf and fickle breeze both run
To prove which better cools it down again.
At eve a savory meal of fish and wine,
Some bread or rice, does wonders to refresh
The day until romance bids lovers dine
Upon delight to soothe both mind and flesh.
At dark the rhythmic, surging tide sends slumber
To sated souls seduced by subtle summer.
first published in descant 48 (2009)
Sometimes I worry when I can’t begin,
Much less complete, a verse in any style,
Of any length or breadth, and for a while
I wonder if I’ll ever write again.
The usual strategies no longer work—
A spectacle gives little inspiration,
A sentiment resists every translation—
Sounds fail and rhythms falter as words lurk.
I find it’s best to take a break, pretend
I’ve never been a poet, for a day,
Perhaps a week, maybe a month, until
The writer’s block has met a welcome end,
And left me confident enough to say,
Despite the lapse, I am a poet still.
first published in WestWard Quarterly (Spring 2010)