National Poetry Month: Adrienne Rich

Today we're concluding National Poetry Month with poems from Adrienne Rich. She was an influential American poet, essayist, and feminist whose work explored themes of identity, politics, power, and social justice. Over the course of her long career, Rich’s poetry evolved from formal, structured verse to more experimental and free forms, reflecting her growing commitment to activism and radical thought. She is known for blending the personal with the political, using poetry as a means to challenge oppression, particularly in relation to gender, sexuality, and race. Most of her work is new to me, but as soon as I read this poem, I knew it was the one I wanted to share.

This poem movingly depicts a relationship. Rich describes how she and her husband venture into the Nevada desert to protest against a nuclear test being carried out by the United States government while contemplating their marriage at the same time. Once, the poet’s marriage was a happy one, filled with music and cookies, with movies and "afternoons on the riverbank". This togetherness is now a thing of the past. Their relationship is now characterized by an emotional distance, a "silence" at the heart of things. The couple have come to the desert not only to protest against nuclear weapons, but also to confront this silence that’s eating away at their relationship.

Trying to Talk With a Man

by Adrienne Rich

Out in this desert we are testing bombs,

that’s why we came here.

Sometimes I feel an underground river
forcing its way between deformed cliffs
an acute angle of understanding
moving itself like a locus of the sun
into this condemned scenery.

What we’ve had to give up to get here –
whole LP collections, films we starred in
playing in the neighbourhoods, bakery windows
full of dry, chocolate-filled Jewish cookies,
the language of love-letters, of suicide notes,
afternoons on the riverbank
pretending to be children

Coming out to this desert
we meant to change the face of
driving among dull green succulents
walking at noon in the ghost town
surrounded by a silence

that sounds like the silence of the place
except that it came with us
and is familiar
and everything we were saying until now
was an effort to blot it out –
coming out here we are up against it

Out here I feel more helpless
with you than without you
You mention the danger
and list the equipment
we talk of people caring for each other
in emergencies – laceration, thirst –
but you look at me like an emergency

Your dry heat feels like power
your eyes are stars of a different magnitude
they reflect lights that spell out: EXIT
when you get up and pace the floor

talking of the danger
as if it were not ourselves
as if we were testing anything else.

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Rich, Adrienne. "Trying to Talk With a Man." Diving into the Wreck. New York: Norton, 1973.  

You can read more about the poet here and here.

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Be sure to check in with Kym, Kat, Sarah, and Vera (there is a linkup below) for more poetry today. Thank you for joining and reading our celebration of National Poetry Month. (And remember that any time is good for poetry, not just Thursdays in April!)

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Unraveled Wednesday: 4/23/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with the Dracula Hitchhiker. That's what Wollmeise called the collection of mini skeins so that's how I continue to think of them. I've finished with the first color, Petit Poison dark, fiddled around with several ways to start the second color, Fliederbusch (lilac bush), and finally hit on one that seemed to work okay. (It's just yo, k2tog, nothing complicated.)

Except . . . I don't really like these two colors next to each other. I have had to remind myself that this is not really a gradient series, just colorways that Wollmeise grouped together, and I do like the later colors better. I think I'll just keep knitting and see what I think when I start the third and subsequent colors. It's nice yarn to work with and I have to knit something. 

I started and gave up on four or five books last week before I finally settled on Night. Sleep. Death. The Stars. by Joyce Carol Oates. It's kind of a long-winded tale (800 pages!) about a family of five siblings whose father dies and how they and their mother react. I've never read anything by this author, but she does seem to use four or five words when one would suffice. So far, I'm sticking with it because the writing is good enough that I want to find out what happens.

What are you making and reading this week?

 

Better Late Than Never

I had to run to the grocery store for a few things on Saturday, and they had a display of Easter flowers right by the front door. I picked up a pot of three hyacinths to inhale their heady fragrance, decided I needed them, and carefully placed them in my cart. 

Later I came to the floral department and saw one of those mini orchids and it was in an adorable bunny rabbit planter. I felt like I had to decide whether I wanted the hyacinths, the orchid, or neither of them, but in a complete departure from my usual, I bought both. They make me happy every time I see them! 

Jess texted me last week to ask what time they should come over for Easter and could she bring anything. Easter has never been a big holiday for us and I honestly didn't feel like cooking a big meal, but for a few moments I did consider making Easter dinner for just Justin and Jess. Ryan was playing D&D and wasn't willing to drive for an hour for a meal he didn't really want. I ended up telling Jess that I didn't have anything planned but maybe we could get together next week so I could hear about her trip. (She just went to the Galapagos!) She said that was fine; she and Justin would go fishing. I didn't have to do something that I didn't really want to do and I needn't have worried that I was going to hurt someone's feelings.

I was working outside on Sunday when I noticed that a bunch of my grape hyacinths had spread (or the squirrels spread them) and were now blooming in the yard rather than the flower beds. My mother had a fairly strict rule that outside flowers were meant to be enjoyed outdoors and we were not allowed to cut them and bring them inside. (Why? I have no idea!) I often still stick by the "rule" and leave flowers outdoors where they bloom. But since these were in the yard, I picked them and brought them inside before John mowed them. I'll be 68 in a couple of months, so I guess it's finally time for me to do what I want to, even if what I want to do is relatively minor. 

These are all small things, and while I don't see myself throwing caution to the wind, heading to Atlantic City to gamble our retirement savings, and taking up with a suave and handsome Italian gigolo, it is interesting to see that I can break some "rules", do some things that make me happy, and nobody gets harmed when I do that. Who knows, I may even order some yarn that I've been lusting after, take a nap, or eat three of my homemade peanut butter bites just to make sure I've really learned this lesson. Better late than never!

 

Not for Mark

John and his brother Mark visit each other every few weeks. Sometimes John goes over to Mark's house in PA, and sometimes Mark comes here to NJ. They talk about deer and other assorted manly topics and spend a few hours together. I often offer Mark lunch when it gets to be that time, but he rarely takes me up on it. He does, however, like my candy dish. 

This is just a dish from my grandmother that I like and what better thing to keep in it than candy. It did have some Hershey kisses and two Reese's peanut butter eggs in it. Sometime after Mark left last Sunday, John asked me if I ate the last peanut butter eggs. I had not; in fact, I was kind of saving them for later. We figured out that Mark must have eaten them. While I don't begrudge Mark a few pieces of candy, I was a little sad that I no longer had any.

So I made some.  It's really just the taste of peanut butter and chocolate that I wanted, so I used this simple recipe. I had all five of the ingredients; it's relatively simple to make, and doesn't require any baking. Clean up was a little messy but it was just two bowls, a few spoons, and a measuring cup. 

I sliced them up into small portions and I'll be storing them in the refrigerator. I doubt Mark will go in there to eat my peanut butter and chocolate confections, but it makes enough that I might even offer him a few pieces the next time he's here.

 

 

 

It's been quite a week here, but now I can enjoy some homemade chocolate and peanut butter bars. I think they're even better than drinking!

A Gathering of Poetry for National Poetry Month: April 2025

Today our focus is on Aging. We're all aging, even the youngest of us, so I think it's a good idea to face it with poetry. I chose this poem because it captures my dear Mother-in-law's last days so clearly when she was in the hospital after a fall (and I also love the title). She was using a wheeled walker and when one of the welds broke she fell and broke her pelvis. I wish she had made progress to take five steps, but it was not to be.

 

Jellyfish Olympics

by Cristina M. R. Norcross

There are wires and cords
that stretch out, 
hang dangling
from the hospital bed,
the transparent filigree 
of a floating jellyfish.
One leads to the phone
to order food. 
One leads to the TV, so we can stare at
cooking shows with delicacies not available here.
One leads to compression wraps
for your vulnerable legs.
Another leads to the IV ports 
in your bruised, crepe-skinned arm.

In between your long spells of sleeping
and my knitting, 
we enjoy the pretend competition
of the contestants cooking.
We marvel at how quickly 
they move about the kitchen.
I marvel even more at your careful movements
and the miracle of progress after your fall.
We count the steps you take
as if you are skipping stones—
any number makes you a winner. 
You fight for everyday markers of strength,
your efforts a perfect ten.
This is the Olympics of rehabilitation.

Cotton gown diamond patterns 
become your fashion.
We look out the window as day becomes night.
Another day passes 
in the goldfish bowl of recovery,
a blue ribbon day of taking five steps 
just to turn around
and walk back to the bed.

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Norcross, Cristina M.R. "Jellyfish Olympics". Poem-a-Day on November 8, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets. 

You can read more about the poet here.  

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Be sure to check in with Kym, Kat, Sarah, and Vera (there is a linkup below) for more poetry today, and join us next Thursday for more poems in celebration of National Poetry Month. (And remember that any time is good for poetry, not just Thursdays in April!) 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

Unraveled Wednesday: 4/16/25

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers today with an FO. 

My Barn Owl socks are done and I'm happy with them. At first the colors reminded me of chickadees, but now I think they are more in a barn owl colorway. I tried to get them to match but I would have hard to get rid of a lot of yarn to do that, so they almost match which is good enough for me. I was so taken with Sarah's socks for Molly that I had to purchase my own skein of yarn, and I've heard that another knitter may also be making copycat socks in the future. I hope Sarah gets her commission check from Fibernymph Dye Works soon! I had forgotten that it can be calming to knit socks, so there may be another pair in the near future, but I haven't yet wound the yarn. 

 

Another relaxing thing is working on a Hitchhiker so I've also been doing that.

 

 

I took the photo mid-row because I got interrupted seven times (no exaggeration), so I figured that meant I should just take the picture. It's still just the deepest purple (Wollmeise calls it Petit Poison dark, which is slightly intriguing). I have a plan for when I change to the next color, so I hope I get there soon so I can see if it will work.

I finished two three-star books this week that I had hoped might be better than they turned out to be. Fredrik Backman has a gift for writing about the emotional intricacies of human relationships, and My Friends is no exception. His usual warmth, empathy, and humor are present to some degree, and there are several moments that tug at the heart in that signature Backman way. The themes of grief, connection, and redemption are handled with care, and he also wrote some interesting things about art.

That said, this one didn’t quite hit as hard as some of his previous works. The pacing felt uneven, and at times, the narrative leaned too heavily on introspection and monologue, making it feel slower than necessary. None of the characters felt fully developed or as compelling as those in A Man Called Ove. Overall, this book was too simplistic and saccharine for me. I honestly struggled to finish as it felt like something had happened to what I remembered as Backman's previous high-quality writing. Maybe something got lost in translation, but as a US reader this quote seemed strange, “It really is a remarkably bad idea, all this. Worse than socks in a toaster.” There are others that are just as odd.

This isn’t a bad book by any means—it has some touching and beautifully written parts—but it didn’t leave the lasting impact I’ve had from previous Backman novels. Fans will still find value here, but it might not convert new readers. Two and a half stars rounded up.

Thank you to Edelweiss and Atria for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on May 6, 2025. 

Rope by Tim Queeney offers an unexpected deep dive into a topic most of us take for granted. I'm not sure I would say that rope is "the backbone of civilization", but the author does explore how rope has literally and figuratively held the world together. From Ötzi's death from a flint arrowhead, to pyramid building in ancient Egypt, how rope was used in punishment, and how important rope was in landing Curiosity on Mars, the subject is more fascinating than it might seem at first glance. The book shines when it leans into quirky historical tidbits and surprising innovations.

That said, the tone can be a bit uneven—sometimes breezy and humorous, other times overly detailed or dry. It reads more like a collection of rope-related anecdotes than a cohesive narrative, which may work for some readers but felt slightly disjointed to me. This book is crying out for illustrations! I often wished for visuals and diagrams to complement the content, especially in the more technical sections. I found myself searching the internet often while I read so I could picture pyramid building, khipu, and ropewalks. Still, it’s a solid read if you enjoy niche histories or just enjoy learning how everyday things came to be. Not quite gripping from start to finish, but it was informative. Three and a half stars rounded down.

Thank you to NetGalley and St. Martin's Press for providing me with a copy of this book. It will be published on August 12, 2025.

What are you making and reading this week?

 

Read With Us: It's A New Book Announcement!

If you’ve ever felt the thrill of discovering a literary gem before the rest of the world catches on, our next Read With Us book is your next must-read—and we’re diving in together.

 

 

We'll be exploring the richly layered, emotionally resonant novel Nesting, a debut that’s already stirring up conversations across literary circles. Roisín O’Donnell, known for her award-winning short fiction, brings her signature lyrical touch to this compelling story of motherhood, identity, recognition, and transformation.

Without giving too much away—because trust me, you’ll want to experience every twist for yourself—Nesting centers on Ciara Fay, a woman navigating the complexities of pregnancy, relationships, and learning to trust what she is experiencing and stand up for her children and herself. O’Donnell’s prose is vivid and often emotionally wrenching, yet still hopeful. What does it mean to make a home, to protect it, and to let it go?

Nesting has been longlisted for The Women's Prize for Fiction. Chair of judges for the Women’s Prize Kit de Waal said the book was:

"a moving story, well told about what it’s like to try and leave an abusive relationship, the hurdles, the stigma, the doubt, the ease and temptation of return. Not maudlin or depressing, there’s lots of light here but ultimately this is about a system ripe for change where getting help is nearly as hard as escape itself."

The hardcover, Kindle, and audio versions of the book are all available from my library without much of a wait. Hopefully, we'll all have plenty of time to place a hold, get the book, and read it. The Kindle and paperback versions are priced reasonably from Amazon and the audio version is narrated beautifully by Louisa Harland. I'm sure your local bookseller could order a copy for you if you're lucky enough to have a local bookseller.

Kym, Carole, and I will be talking about the book, giving additional information, and doing promotional posts through April and May. Discussion day for Nesting is scheduled for Tuesday, June 10, 2025 at 7:00 pm Eastern time, so mark your calendars. We'll ask questions on our blogs that day and then host the always fun, educational, and entertaining Zoom discussion.

Nesting is an important and powerful book and I do hope you'll Read With Us!