This Poetry Pairing characteristics an untitled poem from T. Zachary Cotler’s “Supplice” and the write-up “My Favorite Place: Minor Compton, R.I.” by Dominique Browning.
Right after studying the poem and report, inform us what you believe — or suggest other Occasions articles that could be matched with the poem alternatively.
Poem
After winning a Ruth Lilly Fellowship, T. Zachary Cotler initial appeared in Poetry in November 2011 with the following poem and 3 others.
From ‘Supplice’
By T. Zachary Cotler
Raking lace
at the fringe of the tide,
raking with fingers
the English and cutwork
and French of the froth,
with the adverse black
dwarf sun in her eye echo
eye mirror eye, she,
taking his fingers,
English and Hebrew bones,
bobbin bones,
to lace with her own,
explained love, if you like,
but abyss of light.
Times Selection Excerpt
In “My Favored Location: Tiny Compton, R.I.,” Dominique Browning reflects on South Shore Beach, which she says is “a seashore for all seasons, and it is for people of all seasons.”
Most men and women think they like an empty seaside they admire the fiction of unspoiled stretches of wilderness. But I have observed that most folks gravitate to … most folks. Simply because of this deeply entrenched quirk in human nature, South Shore is in a position to offer the two solitude and cacophony. One particular end is crowded with clusters of human encampments the other, Goosewing, reached by wading across a shallow tidal breach, is generally empty.
In fall, Goosewing’s grassy dunes ripple in chilly breezes and swollen rose hips turn tawny swallows emerge from holes drilled into high, eroding clay banking institutions seaweed and lichen on the boulders blaze with colour, just like the leaves of the tupelo and maple in nearby woods. Georgia O’Keeffe clouds scud across the sky. Fishermen scan for roiling water as the ferocious bluefish migrate to Florida from Maine.
… In the autumn, there are no lifeguards. My ocean swims are blissfully uninterrupted, but the absence of protectors implies sharper twinges of anxiety when I brush against anything that may be a jellyfish, or a shark, or a whale, dependent on how vivid my imagination is that day.
… My seashore in autumn is redolent of absence. Even the slant of the light, as if it desired to bend back time, brings on nostalgia. I miss the frantic summer season action, its sounds and smells and colors nonetheless lingering in the air weekdays are quiet, although the weekend nonetheless swells with exercise. I wonder in which everyone is going. And why am I left at the seashore? But I suppose that is what I enjoy best about becoming here the eternal susurration of the wind in the grass and the foam at my feet, reminding me that daily life is always in flux.
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The Learning Network Blog: Poetry Pairing | From ‘Supplice’
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