There is in my new and selected a conversation
with Kes Woodward, who is the preeminent painter in Alaska
right now.
And we had an artistic conversation
that lasted a year.
It started when I wrote a poem and sent it to Kes,
and he painted in response.
And then I wrote, and then he painted.
And I wrote, and he painted.
We did this for a year, and then we
had an exhibit at the Alaska Humanities Forum.
And then later it went into a magazine,
and later it became part of this book.
And so if you get an opportunity to work
with a painter or a dancer or anyone working in any other art
form, I recommend that you do it,
because it becomes a third thing.
It wasn't just poetry.
It wasn't just painting.
It was just a great, tremendous synergy that
happened between the two of us.
So here are a couple of the poems that came from that.
Listening among birches-- by the way,
he's most famous for his portraits of birch trees.
He thinks he's done.
And I teased him a lot, because we did a book together,
and a lot of his paintings too have names
like birch portrait number 34.
Well, when you get like in the 60s with them,
then you have to start describing them.
It's not too practical.
"Listening among birches, those of us
still rooted to this Earth lie back
on the sponge of other lives, look up
through 13 layers of breath.
Below roots echo branching canopies, deepen and widen
toward moisture not light.
Under us, nine worlds at least.
Those who've gone before travel along trees, all trees,
not just the giant the Mayans imagined,
not just the ancient redwood or kauri or oak.
These birches hold the laughter we can't quite call back,
the glance that touched us more intimately than skin.
Inside us conversations continue, layer upon layer,
off kilter but not really one sided,
absent love so fully present.
So much left unsaid, undone, each weight specific.
One love, particular, listening, alive, beyond mere death."
I also want to thank Ander Monson.
Thank you for making those broadsides.
That's above and beyond, and we appreciate it.