Take Heart: A Conversation in Poetry: Zones of Peeper
Edited and introduced by Wesley McNair, Maine Poet Laureate
Carl Little is not only an accomplished poet but a widely published author of books about the painters of Maine. In today’s column he describes how peepers “fling their music” during early spring. Note how his poem flings its own joyful music across line breaks and stanza divisions.
Zones of Peeper By Carl Little
Driving home from a party, parsing conversations, car windows down to greet first real summer heat, we pass through zones of peeper—not song, not chorus, though scientists no doubt find pattern in the high-pitched whatever it is. Nor peep, which reminds you ofsilly chicks falling over each other in an incubator. Every moist venue between Pretty Marsh and Somesville, every hundred yards bringsthis antic singing, somewhat alien in tone, magical too, like fireflies but auditory, not synthesized but a perfectcacophony of the higher ranges, tiny frogs doing their spring thing, flinging music into dank milieu of pond edge and marsh, inspiringa certain joy in our recap of the evening as if every fault could be forgiven when you consider the rest of the world wild and wet and flipping out.
Take Heart: A Conversation in Poetry is produced in collaboration with the Maine Writers & Publishers Alliance. Poem copyright © 2009 by Carl Little. Reprinted from Down East Magazine, March 19, 2009, by permission of Down East. Questions about submitting to Take Heart may be directed to David Turner, Special Assistant to the Maine Poet Laureate, at email@example.com or 207-228-8263.