From the Ether
editor’s note
*
On Lawn Ornaments and Poetry
I have to admit the holiday season still enchants me—I look forward to the
lights and yard decorations I see all around me this time of year. From the
fairy lights strung along the roofline of a brick Tudor down the street to
another neighbor’s front yard extravaganza (some might describe it as “retro,”
others might use the less kindly term “tacky”), I’m a fan. I love that every
growing thing is covered in light of some fashion, the leafless dogwood draped
in strings of periwinkle bulbs and those plastic icicles that alternate between
blue and white light, giving them the appearance of melting. That the yard
boasts a host of wooden lawn ornaments looking to be of 1940s vintage—a dapper
human-sized snowcouple, perhaps on their way to church, among them.
I’ll admit to feeling melancholy when, earlier this month, I drove past a house
in which a mostly deflated Mickey-Mouse-dressed-as-Santa lay face-up on the
front lawn, one black-gloved hand folded over his heart. When I drove by the
next day my spirits lifted upon finding him fully inflated, upright, and
smiling, sack of toys tossed nonchalantly over his shoulder.
In the past few years I’ve found that the postholiday weeks provide their own
kind of enchantment, a time to indulge in the quiet after the feast, think about
the coming year, to, as poet Heather Hamilton writes in “When Harvesting
Saffron” in this issue of the DMQ Review:
“Brush back the snow
in a circle from its base;
lay your ear to the soil
as if listening for hooves.”
I hope the collection of poems that we’ve included in this issue—which we’ve
paired with some of the vibrant and provocative paintings of New Orleans artist
Tony Nozero—can provide you a refuge of sorts, a place to be quiet and
contemplative, a place, perhaps, of enchantment.
Marjorie Manwaring
Editor