A eulogy, of sorts

In October 1995 I was just starting college: young, idealistic, naive. I was priveleged to attend a writer's conference with such local writers as David Lee (Utah's first Poet Laureate) and Leslie Norris. Norris was a Welsh poet influenced by Dylan Thomas (whoever he was) who moved to Utah in his later life. I was equally priveleged to attend a poetry reading by Professor Norris, which included the title poem from his most recent book of poetry, A Sea in the Desert. I described Leslie Norris in my journal that night as "an incredible man...with broad gestures (but small hands) and a worn but scarcely hidden Green-Isled accent".

My favorite stanza from his poem A Sea in the Desert goes like this:

A man is moon to his own sea --
he draws it after him,
like a dog it follows him
the days of his life.

You can read the poem in its entirety here. I love the way the shape of the poem echoes the rhythm of waves on a beach. Something about the idea that we each tug our own ocean along behind us really resonates with me. When I first heard this poem, I thought that this metaphorical ocean described the pool of our experiences, our "baggage", if you will, which we can try to share with each other but at the same time can only be completely understood within ourselves. A lonely idea, certainly, but to me the ocean was always the epitome of loneliness.

I was shocked and saddened when I learned, on preparing to write this post, that Professor Norris died last April. It makes me feel fragile and melancholy to learn that this man, who so inflenced me, who I haven't thought about in so many years, has passed on.

I still have the dog-eared and copiously annotated copy of A Sea in the Desert I purchased immediately following his reading. I noted the date inside, 10/11/95, but wish I had thought to have him sign it. I guess in the end a man's poetry is as much of a signature as anything else he could provide.

(art by JMW Turner (Dawn After the Wreck) and Hokusai (The Hollow of the Deep-Sea Wave off Kanagawa)