Lisa Olstein’s “Dear One Absent This Long While” is a lovely poem, and especially appropriate for the rainy early spring we’re having here, when “everything blooms coldly.”
In what I thought of as an unsent letter, the speaker addresses the absent person—though the poem leaves open the identity of the missing loved one—revealing how she’s been so anxious to see him or her that she’s mistaken “leaves in the wind,” “the retreating shadow of a fox, daybreak” for the return of the absent loved one.
In the meantime, the speaker (solitary, we understand, since the other who wait are the cat and the stove—stoves in poems always remind me of Bishop’s “Sestina,” by the way) takes to planting to pass the time:
June efforts quietly.I’ve planted vegetables along each garden wall
so even if spring continues to disappointwe can say at least the lettuce loved the rain.
Initially stopped short by the unusual verb choice in that first line (“June efforts quietly”), I’ve since come to like it; it suggests the whole month is gathering its forces with the speaker, to try to wait out this rainy, lonely period.
What do you make of the last three stanzas? There’s the contrast of the new gardening tools with the practice of eulogies (eulogies that either describe animals or describe people using animals as metaphors) and the suggestion of death and decay (the “unrabbited” woods instead of the fecundity associated with rabbits). The beloved’s name is spoken by leaves that somehow chatter (like books?)–but are the leaves on the trees, or lying dead on the forest floor? Lots to think about.
Do you think this missed person is alive? Just something I wondered about.
I go back and forth, but I tend to think not.
I was wondering that even before the word “epitaphs” was used, just because the person seemed to have been gone a long time. But there are other reasons for that.
Or it might have been “eulogies.” Can’t remember.
Love this! How do you do it & keep doing it? E On Mar 31, 2016 6:31 AM, “Rosemary and Reading Glasses” wrote:
> Carolyn O posted: “Lisa Olstein’s “Dear One Absent This Long While” is a > lovely poem, and especially appropriate for the rainy early spring we’re > having here, when “everything blooms coldly.” In what I thought of as an > unsent letter, the speaker addresses the absent pers” >
You’re so kind, Ellen!
I can confirm that the quotations are in fact increasing the number of times I read the poems, and now that I’ve started to read them it is becoming more of a habit. Thank you for the change!
Yay! I’m glad!
Carolyn, I love your blog. 🙂 I think this lovely poem describes someone expecting death – not longing for a lost love (“I expect you” – not “I long for you”) and, as a gardener, I think this is what I do every spring – see if this rose lived through the winter, or not, with my hoe and gloves in hand to begin again … You, death, are the one who walks silently in my footsteps, and one day will meet my expectations and meet me. I find this poem comforting for putting death into the scheme of life and renewal, making it all of one piece… Anyway – thank you – I am glad to have learned of this poem which I will think about over & over 🙂
Thank you, Mary Jo! That’s a very astute reading, and I like your connection to gardening (I’m starting to learn about gardening myself–hoping to start one soon. Do you have any favorite books for beginners?).
I’m a big fan of the books “… for Dummies.” Good basic info – I grow roses, and all I really need to know is in that book. Other than that, I just buy books with beautiful pictures for inspiration! Good luck – it’s a wonderful thing to dig in the dirt on a nice warm spring day.
Thanks for the advice!