Roses are Red, Violets are Blue …

As we struggled to move about through the frigid air last week, probably caused by the polar vortex sending cold air from the North Pole, I dressed in layers (and layers and layers) in an attempt to fortify myself against the chill. Robert Frost’s poem “Fire and Ice” kept going through my mind. In it he suggests the world might end by fire (desire) or ice (hate) and from what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.

The poem was first published in the Atlantic magazine in 1920 and then in New Hampshire: A Poem with Notes and Grace Notes (Henry Holt, 1923) the book that received the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1924. Of course, Frost wasn’t writing about the cold weather, yet the image of fire and ice are a reminder of how intense the weather can be and the affect it can have on our spirits.

Then I began to wonder why I was thinking of poetry

On one of the coldest days, when the wind plummeted the thermometer into the single digits, I noticed a small cerise glove in the distance on the sidewalk. It was difficult to discern the shape at first. Yet, because of its vibrant color the child’s glove seemed to glow on the pavement against the cold and gray landscape.

I recalled a poem by Diane Wakoski, one of the Beat poets from the 1960s, that was published in her fourth book of poetry, Inside the Blood Factory, (Doubleday, 1968). The poem is entitled: “Cerise.”

The color of dancing in plastic shoes

or carrying a plastic pocket book with cloth flowers showing thru

or gold speckled linoleum.

Come on now. How can you take that color seriously?  …

There was something about the cerise color that reminded me of summer. Or the climate of a place that doesn’t have a season with subzero temperatures. Certainly not New Hampshire. Cerise isn’t a color one associates with New Hampshire.

Donald Hall, the beloved New Hampshire poet, opens a poem titled: “Midwinter Letter” with these lines: 

I wanted this assaulting winter

To end before January ended. …

These are lines appropriate for New Hampshire.

Finally, this week a bit of a retrieve from the brutally cold weather caused partially, I expect, from the glow of warmth that emanated from the New England Patriots Super Bowl victory. 

The sky is as blue as a summer sky.  The sun reflecting off the snow a reminder that soon the weather will shift and there will be days when we can stuff our gloves into a pocket, unbutton our jackets and leave the puffy coat at home. 

Next week we celebrate Valentine’s Day and we are in the mid-center of February, nearly on the cusp of March.  That must be the reason poetry has been on my mind. Valentine’s Day is the time of year when everyone is reading Shakespeare’s sonnets and thinking about love.  When red and cerise actually do find a way into our lives.

 Happy Valentine’s Day.

 Elizabeth Howard is an author and journalist.  Her books include:  Ned O’Gorman: A Glance Back, a book she edited (Easton Studio Press, 2015), A Day with Bonefish Joe (David R.Godine, 2015), Queen Anne’s Lace and Wild Blackberry Pie, (Thornwillow Press, 2011). She lives in New York City