April 8: What Is White?

[Martha]

What Is White?
Mary O'Neill

White is a dove
And lily of the valley
And a puddle of milk
Spilled in an alley –
A ship’s sail,
A kite’s tail,
A wedding veil
Hailstones and
Halibut bones
And some people’s
Telephones.
The hottest and most blinding light
Is white.
And breath is white
When you blow it out on a frosty night.
White is the shining absence of all colour
Then absence is white
Out of touch
Out of sight.
White is marshmallow
And vanilla ice cream
And the part you can’t remember
In a dream.
White is the sound
Of a light foot walking
White is a pair of
Whispers talking.
White is the beautiful
Broken lace
Of snowflakes falling
On your face.
You can smell white
In a country room
Toward the end of May
In the cherry bloom.

==

My then-6-year-old memorized the first part of this for the school winter recital this year, and if you think I loved hearing her roll "hailstones and halibut bones" around in her mouth like I'd incepted her to do, you would be right. Every day this month, she's volunteered to recite it to me, so I could send it to you. So here you go. With her compliments.

Today in: 

2024: As If to Demonstrate an Eclipse, Billy Collins 
2023: Neither Time Nor Grief is a Flat Circle, Christina Olson
2022: Pippi Longstocking, Sandra Simonds
2021: Waking After the Surgery, Leila Chatti
2020: Gutbucket, Kevin Young
2019: Insomnia, Linda Pastan
2018: How Many Nights, Galway Kinnell
2017: The Little Book of Hand Shadows, Deborah Digges
2016: Now I Pray, Kathy Engel
2015: Why I’m Here, Jacqueline Berger
2014: Snow, Aldo, Kate DiCamillo
2013: from The Escape, Philip Levine
2012: Thirst, Mary Oliver
2011: Getting Away with It, Jack Gilbert
2010: *turning, Annie Guthrie
2009: I Don’t Fear Death, Sandra Beasley
2008: The Dover Bitch, Anthony Hecht
2007: Death Comes To Me Again, A Girl, Dorianne Laux
2006: Up Jumped Spring, Al Young
2005: Old Women in Eliot Poems, David Wright

+ Today's poem: What is White?, Mary O'Neill