Sunday, August 02, 2009

Second sight

This poem by Vernon Scannell is an object lesson in making the most of experience

Of course failing faculties can also provide a handy excuse for not doing things, simply because you don’t want to have to do them any more

Second sight

Poor eyesight has its compensations,
allows access to a world whose furniture
surprises. I remove my glasses
as I walk with my whippet
in the summer park &, instantly, she melts
into the green earth & disappears.
Irked by her continual absence I begin
to whistle & to call her by name,
and am again startled
at her small yelp as I stumble over her.

I am gulled by the scattered white stones
which suddenly ascend & punish the air
with slapping wings. The beautiful girl,
as in Greek myth, is changed
by my proximity into a laurel.
A fallen paper bag starts to bark.
I resume my spectacles,
expecting the commonplace

Vernon Scannell
I keep thinking that people have stopped looking at the landscape … & Im very interested in how we see, seeing is memory & memory is now. We don’t all see the same things even if we’re looking at the same thing … looking is a positive thing – you’ve got to decide to look