Sunday, March 8, 2020

Today's poem by Iva E. Reed

I haven't posted a poem by this woman in a lot of years. She was a friend of ours who has since died. You may find more of her poems here on the blog by going to the Poems button under the blog header picture, and then scrolling down to her name. I have been thinking of this poem for a few days as I've been seeing more crows. I know they are around in winter, but it is only in March that they begin showing themselves.

Crow in March

Heard a crow this morning!

what a great sound
when winter is still
thick and cold and white
upon the ground.

Iva Everesta Reed


I did a search and found her obituary. What a life she led!

Iva Reed


Iva Reed Obituary
Iva Everesta Reed
Passed away in San Francisco on October 15, 2014.
Iva Everesta Reed was born December 25, 1924, one of eight children, to Adelaide Kaziah Woods and Dwight Reed, in the tiny town of Landaff, New Hampshire, in the foothills of the White Mountains. She graduated valedictorian of her high school class in Lisbon, N.H., and Phi Beta Kappa from the University of Iowa with a BA in Sociology in 1948. She studied for a Master's Degree in Sociology at the University of New Hampshire.

As a young woman living in Boston, she acted in soap operas on the ABC and NBC TV networks while supporting herself as a waitress, hat checker, and part-time office worker in order to pursue her love of theatre. She played the lead in a live production of Joan of Arc in Summer Stock, Westborough, MA. In later years, she lived and worked in New York, where she became a member of the Communist Party and worked for political causes with Black activists in Harlem. She also lived for a time in Columbia, Missouri.

In 1958, she moved to San Francisco, where, in 1979, she published a book of poetry, Time Before Winter. Many of the poems in the volume express through a child's eyes Iva's love of the natural world in the White Mountains where she grew up. Many are whimsical stories about the wild animals she saw in the woods and fields she played in as a child, others a poignant search for meaning in a world of loss.

Iva is survived by her niece, Sue Malone, of Jacksonville, Florida, and by myriad other nieces and nephews scattered across the country. She will rest in peace with her parents at the Landaff Center Hill Cemetery in New Hampshire.

Published in San Francisco Chronicle on Oct. 26, 2014

10 comments:

  1. Thanks so much for the lovely pic of your animals. Made me smile..... a lot!

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  2. Love this poem. The crows around here are busy setting up nesting territories and doing their business. I have seen two different crows carrying nesting material. An exciting time of year.
    Absolutely love your header picture. Such good friends snuggled up together in the chair.

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    1. I don't think ours are nesting yet. We are still in winter even though we've lost a lot of snow, and the temps are milder. It is an exciting time of year! Heard a nuthatch the other day. Coyotes are noisy and a bit too close to our houses! I didn't hear them inside but I saw Nebby the donkey surrounded by the sheep just staring. I went outside and they were in a clearing in the woods. I rushed out to get all the animals in! And yes, they are good friends. We couldn't be happier with how they get along.

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  3. What a hopeful image from such a short poem! The poet certainly lived an interesting life, didn't she, and she managed to leave her mark upon the world in many ways. Certainly a life well-lived.

    Love the photo of your dog and cat. They seem to have a great relationship.

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    1. Such a full-of-thought comment. Thank you.
      And there are actually two cats! Lucy the dog's leg is on top of the one on far left.

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  4. I love the dog and cat curled up together on the cozy chair! And the poem is lovely, full of winter silence. (But I am looking for Spring!)

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    1. 2 cats! Those crows on our lawn say spring to me!

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  5. Lovely poem. Reminds me of 'The Thaw' by Edward Thomas, which I thought you'd like:

    Over the land freckled with snow half thawed
    The speculating rooks at their nest cawed
    And saw from elm-tops, delicate as flower of grass,
    What we below could not see, Winter pass.

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