Running from Abstraction

Last Thursday, the Honors Hall dorm was anything but abstract. In fact, we were pretty darn specific. Eating muffins and sitting around the dining room table, we talked about what makes fall fall. Someone mentioned the crunch of leaves. Another, about the way the leaves fell in front of her car on the way home. There was even talk of a fall song (and yes, she did sing it for us). In all of this, we realized that when we talk about fall, there might be common themes -- pumpkins, football, leaves -- but we all have very specific images. We realized that when we want someone to experience fall with us it's much better to be as specific as possible rather than talk in abstract terms.

And so it is in writing, especially poetry. We read a few poems, paying attention to how they illustrated abstract ideas like first love or grief. We marveled, really (and how can you not marvel at William Meredith's "The Illiterate" or Tomas Transtromer's "After a Death"?).  We then tried to write about an abstraction ourselves. We each got an abstract idea, wrote a poem, and then the others had to guess what the abstraction was.  As we heard each poem filled with striking images and incantatory repetition, it was clear -- these Boltoneer poets had conquered abstraction. Long live the concrete detail!

Below is one of the poems born out of an abstraction.

An Addition to the Family

Emily Buras

My big sister winks at me

And sends my first shooting star

Across the night ceiling,

To me

Because I’m the one sleeping

Out on the deck.

Under my quilt

Where she can see me,

Finally.

Now I know, for sure, where she’s been

For those 18 odd years

Since she was cut out

And cried over

To save Mom.

She’s been burning with light

Waiting for me

To sleep in the firefly dark

And let my glasses

Reflect the moon

So she can wave across the sky

And we can meet.

Finally.

She’s swimming up in the blue black waters;

Splashing around

Watching me

Watch her.

It’s exciting, not to be

The firstborn anymore.

When I was a kid,

I never wanted a younger sister.