Nancy Miller Gomez: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Why I Tie My Hair to Trees

 

Thick, black handfuls gathered

from the comb. I carry the nest of it

outside to drape on a low-hanging branch

of the oak. Later when I look, it’s gone,

carried off by wind or birds.

I like to imagine it as home

for song sparrows, the strands

woven into the twigs and leaves.

Or collected by wood rats

along with cobwebs and cloth

and buried in the woodpile,

a piece of me nestled into the lives

of these creatures. Or maybe,

blown into the trees, tangled

in the lacy crown of the hemlock.

At night, when the outlines

of familiar objects run into the dark,

I like to think there is a part of me

that isn’t afraid, one slender curl

shining in the moonlight.

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Nancy Miller Gomez is the author of Inconsolable Objects (YesYes Books, 2024) and the chapbook, Punishment (Rattle, 2018), a collection of poems and essays about her experience teaching in prisons and jails. Her work has appeared in numerous journals and anthologies including Best American Poetry and Best New Poets. She received a special mention in the 2023 Pushcart Prize Anthology. She co-founded an organization that provides writing workshops to incarcerated women and men and has taught poetry in Salinas Valley State Prison, the Santa  Cruz County Jails, and the Juvenile Hall. She has a B.A. from The University of California, San Diego, a J.D. from the University of San Diego, and an MFA in Poetry from Pacific University. She has worked as a waitress, a stable hand, an attorney, and a tv producer. She lives with her family in Santa Cruz, California. 

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                                                   Édouard Vuillard, Beneath the Trees, 1897--99. Oil on cardboard.

Comments

[lally]

nice one, keep'em comin'

[Grace Cavalieri]

Oh yes! The lint from my washing machine filter is mother to new birds, I hope. But this poem--starting from the title-- shows the humanity behind this.

[Clarinda]

Author j Diaz once said in a talk at the Pratt library that one of the best things about fiction is you can learn so much from
It. Same is true poems I think. I now have learned a great use for my wads of shed hair and dryer lint. Love love love this poem!

[David Lehman]

Excellent choice of poem and painting!

[Beth Joselow]

Beautiful, and grounded, real.

[Don Berger]

Wow, what a stunning poem--I've never heard of anyone doing this nevermind writing so graciously and musically about it. The first thing I did after reading it was read it a few more times, and with each was thrilled even more. Thanks for finding it for us Terence and Nancy I'm changed by the poem. The day's instantly become new, enriched, changed mysteriously. You're quite a poet!

[susan campbell]

Yes—this poem is great! What a wonderful idea!

[Ali]

Gorgeous poem. Nancy is a master at her craft.

[Terence Winch]

Don: Thanks for the comment, my friend.

[Nancy Miller Gomez]

Thank you, everyone for your comments! I am so grateful to Terence for choosing my poem, and deeply honored by all of the comments. With gratitude! Nancy

[Bill Nevns]

Yeah! Be not afraid!
I like to think there is a part of me

that isn’t afraid, one slender curl

shining in the moonlight.

[Mitch]

I love this. So bizarre yet also beautiful!

[Rebecca Patrascu]

I adore this poem. The book Inconsolable Objects is full of beautiful pieces, but I think this is one of the most moving. So happy to see it here.

[Laure Guerin]

"I like to think there is a part of me

that isn’t afraid, one slender curl

shining in the moonlight.

Nancy Miller Gomez always get me with her last lines. Always. So wonderful to see her here.