In keeping with tradition, Jay gave me a book of poetry for our anniversary. This is not because he's a Romeo romantic, but rather because I really love poetry.
I remember the first poet I fell in love with. I was in 6th grade--he had long been dead. Nevertheless, I was quite smitten with Edgar Alan Poe--and not just because of his famous "The Raven" bit. I still have my first anthology of his work that my mother bought for me in Russia--I know because the price sticker is in rubles.
Now, I'm not any good at writing poetry, but that doesn't stop me from trying my hand at a verse or two every now and then. But, most of the time I just stick to reading it...John Donne, Thomas Hardy, Emily Dickinson...and of course the Russian poets--Anna Akhmatova and Osip Mandelshtam (thanks college for exposing me to their talent).
This year Jay gave me Sylvia Plath's "Ariel." It's probably about as far from romantic stuff as you can get. In fact, it's downright depressing. Despite this fact, I'm quite amazed at her raw talent and deft use of the English language. Still, not exactly your snuggle-up with book.
Do you like poetry? Do you have any recommendations for next year?
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