Visual fun -- Roberts Millay

The world and history of poetry has iconic phrases.  Lines of poems that have taken on a life of their own.  But what about iconic visuals?  Sure, there are a few volumes of poetry that sort of embed themselves in the public consciousness -- okay, maybe just the consciousness of the poetry reading consciousness.  Old volumes of the Norton Anthologies.  A few penguin editions.  If you're a poetry book afficionado like me and gravitate to the poetry section of a used bookstore like I do, you come to recognize the spines of certain books even before you can read the title.  The little pocket series Ferlinghetti put out with City Lights.  Howl comes to mind.  But all of'em managed some nifty branding.  But what about photographs?  What photographs of poets have that kind of iconic status?  Well, in talking with Michael and Kim and a few other friends I could only think of two.  One is the photograph (loved or loathed depending on who you talk to) of Edna St. Vincent Millay posed between the branches of a blooming pink magnolia.  The other image is Whitman posed with the floppy hat and probably most notably holding the butterfly on his fingertips.  I can describe the image and you probably already recognize it.

Anyway, back to the Millay image.  There is an enormous authoritative dogwood tree in my neighborhood of Brookland.  I say it's authoritative because it is so enormous, such a survivor, that seeing it (visiting it is the more apt description) is to find the definitive example of the tree.  Its broad branches allow you to walk within the tree. Literally.  In the Spring, when the tree is in bloom, you walk within to the base of the tree and you are in a cathedral of bloom.  Yellowwhite light under through those petals.  A tree that should not have survived to get to this size but has by some perfect combination of shelter and space been allowed to become this.  It's quite magical.  And it brings to mind, or did to me, that iconic Millay image.

So, I take people to visit the tree when it's in bloom.  I visited the tree four times this Spring.  Once with Kim Roberts, of The Kimnama and of Beltway Poetry. I had earlier played around with posing for an impromptu photo as Millay.  It was wacky fun.  But with Kim we had the good fortune of taking a few different angles.  So here are the shots of Kim channeling the spirit of Edna St. Vincent Millay.

We took a few others that could only be described as poetic imaginings of other author photos by ... oh I don't know, Susan Polis Schultz or Doris Day (if she released a book of poetry?.. egads). 

Any other iconic poetic photos that need to be "re-imagined?"  Do tell us.  Or share you re-imaginings with us.

*** Oh, and after this visit we decided to name the dogwood tree "Vincent" after Millay.  It was Kim's idea and it seemed to fit.  She also informed me that Millay got that middle name because it was the name of the hospital where she was born.

The Millay Project.

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[Edna St. Francis Daubay]

My dogwood burns at both ends;
It will not last the Spring;
But ah, my woes, and oh, my debts--
The buzz saw goes kaching!