Susan Carol Hauser

Archive for March, 2010|Monthly archive page

Web Site Updated

In Web Site on March 29, 2010 at 2:34 am

www.susancarolhauser.com

My website is now current. It includes my resume, bibliography and rights available (publishing-ese for manuscripts seeking publishers).

Regarding the McKnight Artist Fellowship–Judge Marilyn Nelson had this to say about my manuscript: “I was touched by the generosity of these poems in the sharing of grief and the upward and downward tides of the ongoing cycles of birth, death and the seasons. They deftly elevate the individual facts of the quotidian toward the simplicity of myth.”

Below is a poem from the submission manuscript.

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This Morning

This morning, with the loons calling across the lake, and a creature in the swamp galumping, and the drawl of a distant mourning dove pulling at me, so that I turn my head to listen better in one ear,

this late-July morning in northern Minnesota, with the leaves of the oak trees approaching their deepest green, and the reed canary grass outside my window already gone to seed, and the thistles that I let grow this year topping off with purple flowers, and the bay of the lake calm in the still air, the pelicans, in their morning cruise around the perimeter traveling each with its own image stitched alongside it, the image exactly equal to the pelican itself except that it does not exist,

this morning, this late-July morning, the trees speaking the tongue of songbirds, I do not miss you.

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2010 McKnight-Loft Poetry Award

In McKnight Award on March 14, 2010 at 10:30 pm

2010 McKnight Artist Fellowship

I have received a 2010 McKnight Artist Fellowship ($25,000) in poetry.  This is the closing poem in the award manuscript:

Guests at the Table

Pickled beets; deviled eggs.

Sweet potato soup.
French bread.

Blueberry pie with ice cream.

Coffee: hot, black, strong.

After, a walk down the country road
in a starless dark so thorough
we lose our balance, put our arms
out like oars and, one to the next,
touch at our fingertips, proceed,
as always, in a ragged line
into the deepened night.