The Young
The Young
How the young curl into themselves
like ferns in early spring,
hard-wired to hold their still-gyred beings,
clasp encircled
by own surfaces,
until, time, as it surely will,
fiddles with heads and bodies–
and, truly, how wondrous is
the unwinding–
fronds loosening like the skin limbs stretch
to encompass,
spores gloriously exposed (if, only
on the undersides),
leaves teething
to get a better bite
of sun
and rainfall–
Terrifying, though, when winds spin
their expanse, when cold
enfolds,
and they can’t coil back
to those clutched self-centers–
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Here’s a sort of poem, written under the influence of Karin Boye, a Swedish poet, who is the subject of a prompt by Bjorn Rydberg on With Real Toads.
A couple of process notes–the picture (mine) is of fiddlehead ferns–those are the ones I had in mind, which have that name in the U.S. due to the spiraled shape in early spring. Also, one word that troubles me is “clasp” in the first stanza that had been “small fists,” but small fists seemed to sort limit the poem to infants. If anyone has any thoughts on these words, I’m happy to hear them.
Explore posts in the same categories: poetry, UncategorizedTags: callow youth poem, fiddlehead ferns made flesh poem, http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, influenced by Karin Boye, manicddaily, poem on the young
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ManicDDaily 
September 21, 2014 at 10:47 am
Beautiful
September 21, 2014 at 12:13 pm
Thanks! I read your interesting post re the Bermuda Triangle, but could not see where to comment. Thanks. k.
September 21, 2014 at 11:20 am
One of your finest ‘sort of’ poems ~ ever!!
September 21, 2014 at 11:58 am
Those ferns are even more hesitant than the breaking buds.. Maybe even more like a human being.. But yet it comes the day when they stretch and grow…
September 21, 2014 at 11:59 am
What a beautiful metaphor! I love the tight spirals of fern fronds and your exposition is just perfect.
September 21, 2014 at 12:05 pm
Thanks so much, Kerry. I was going to add as a process note that the ferns are called “fiddlehead” ferns here, because of the round spire when they are young. K.
September 21, 2014 at 12:11 pm
Also, Kerry–I’ve been thinking a lot about a poem for your superstition/science prompt–I don’t know–haven’t gotten there–but will try. k.
On Sun, Sep 21, 2014 at 12:59 PM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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September 21, 2014 at 1:01 pm
They can never coil back, can they? And we, parents, suffer from it. What a beautiful poem. 🙂
Greetings from London.
September 21, 2014 at 1:16 pm
This poem begins with a whiff of Eliot, to me, and then breaks away into your own particular lilt. Once again you find the epitome of metaphors, and follow it through gracefully and completely to those rueful lines from an older, compassionate voice.Really excellent writing, k–(and I think ‘clasp’ does suit the purpose a bit better–for one , you already have the image of fiddle *heads* which may be enough of a reference to body parts in plants, and also, of course, for the reason you stated.)
September 21, 2014 at 4:15 pm
Yes, I think so too, thanks. k.
September 21, 2014 at 1:28 pm
I look forward to those unwinding, to get a better bite to the sun and rainfall ~ Yet its all a perilous journey, sometimes too early means death in cold spring ~
September 21, 2014 at 1:42 pm
time does fiddle!
September 21, 2014 at 2:31 pm
Lovely work!
September 21, 2014 at 4:07 pm
Nothing “sort of” about this…Those winds are terrifying, but we have to let our fiddleheads unfurl as they will, don’t we. Beautiful work; thank you.
September 21, 2014 at 4:14 pm
Thanks! k.
September 21, 2014 at 4:54 pm
Thanks. k.
On Sun, Sep 21, 2014 at 5:07 PM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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September 21, 2014 at 6:29 pm
More little creatures ‘parked’ by their mothers? Mother elk park their babies while they forage for food and water to sustain a milk supply.
“clasp encircled by own surfaces”? I might say “clasp ‘entwined’ by (their) own surfaces” but here also perhaps down and personal by mentioning a body part, hands, arms, skin, or such instead of the word ‘surfaces’. But I duno; or ditto on exactly how it all works.
..
September 21, 2014 at 7:10 pm
That was clearly awesome!
ZQ
September 22, 2014 at 2:10 am
This is such a perfect description/image of the unfolding of adolescence made all the more wondrous by the metaphor. I thought of my grandson who’s still in the curled into himself phase but about to unfurl. I love this.
September 22, 2014 at 6:35 am
Thanks so much, Mary. k.
On Mon, Sep 22, 2014 at 3:10 AM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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September 22, 2014 at 6:40 am
I read this great metaphor with the fern about young people and how similar the two can be with young people always on their electronics & other surfaces But not totally involved with reality as though they are still in school or very young. Then into adulthood.
September 22, 2014 at 6:44 am
Ha. That is so interesting– I was thinking of hard-wired in the genetic sense, but I can see it that way too–thanks! k
On Mon, Sep 22, 2014 at 7:40 AM, ManicDDaily wrote:
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September 23, 2014 at 2:29 am
k, you’ve elaborated and detailed the conceit beautifully ~
September 23, 2014 at 5:52 am
Thanks. It was so odd, as I was thinking a long time about a different poem, still not done at all, and then this one came—but reading Karin Boye’s work was very interesting to me–we don’t–I don’t–get as much time to read as I might with all the rest of it, and it is a real problem in trying to write. Thanks again for your support and inspiration. k.