The Belle Of Blackhawk Island
“I was the solitary plover,” wrote Wisconsin poet Lorine Niedecker in “Paean to Place.” “A pencil / for a wing-bone / From the secret notes / I must tilt / upon the pressure / execute and adjust / In us sea-air rhythm / ‘We live by the urgent wave / of the verse.’” The spare lines compare the hollowness of bird bones with the pencil, an extension of the poet’s hand–or perhaps a bone filled with lead....