Our poetry team is pleased this week to feature a new poem from writer Frederick Livingston, titled 'Prayer for Ali', which can be read in its entirety here. The editors loved it for its tenderness and for its powerful ending.
Frederick Livingston plants seeds grounded in ecology and experiential education. He is the author of "The Moon and Other Fruits", along with numerous works found in literary magazines, scientific journals, and public spaces. His most recent title, "Trees are Bridges to the Sky", won the Prism Prize for Climate Literature.
Recently our poetry editors Grant Burkhardt talked with Livingston about the poem and his work more broadly. This is the transcript of their conversation:
Grant Burkhardt: We absolutely loved this poem. It's so tender-hearted and gentle, which seems to match little Ali's soul. How did the poem come to be? Also, with the form featuring such tight, fluid stanzas, I wonder how long this took and whether it came out all at once?
Frederick Livingston: Very simply, the poem arose from a need to tell my partner what had happened while away on a work trip. As the only witness to Ali's death, I felt an obligation to both report the unfolding and to honor a spirit passing from form into formlessness. After a pausing a while beside his body, as I describe in the poem, it was clear enough I had to bury him and shepherd his spirit. The process of digging accumulated emotion and energy, whereas writing was the energy flowing back out into the world. This arc occurred over the course of the morning, before I went to work.
Grant Burkhardt: Along with the tenderness and care shown to the poem's subject, there's such great space for imagination throughout the piece, including the bit about the cat's heart being "troubled", and the relationship between the speaker and the "you" in the poem. Do you find that you have to hold back from divulging too many details in a poem like this?
Frederick Livingston: I didn't feel I had to hold anything back, but I do find it necessary to leave enough room in a poem so the reader can connect at a broader human level. Truth is one of the greatest gifts we can give each other, and my goal as a writer is to carry that truth in the vessel of a poem. Often I find depth of detail is a more effective conveyance than the amount of detail, so I give the reader only what feels essential, allowing them to bring the rest.
Grant Burkhardt: I'm also curious how you came to choose "Prayer" in the title?
Frederick Livingston: Although the poem is written as a fairly matter-of-fact account, it still served to honor an event of more subtle spiritual significance. So "prayer" is playing with the permeable membrane between the mundane and sacred in everything we experience. Standing outside on a cold morning, writing a letter, burying a pet, anything.
Grant Burkhardt: "I must say" is such a great way to start this – it reminded me of William Carlos Williams's famous poem about plums – and in a way it's a bit dark-funny. Like, what, was the speaker not going to divulge the information? I wonder how you thought of that opening line when you wrote it?
Frederick Livingston: I did read the plum poem back in high school English class. The first line came to me because it bridges the silence of someone who knows nothing of this sadness with the speaker for whom it is so heavy, similar to in Williams's poem. It is not that I was planning to keep this news from my partner, which ultimately would not have been possible, but that I recognized what I was about to give would cause pain. I never wish to distribute pain, but I also see how that kind of honest clarity demonstrates trust for the other, because you believe they are strong enough to bear it.
Grant Burkhardt: What are you working on now? What's next for your poetry?
Frederick Livingston: I have been hosting readings around the Pacific Northwest to publicize my most recent book, "Trees are Bridges to the Sky", which is a mixture of poetry and science communication around ecocrisis. "Prayer for Ali" didn't fit into this book, but so often poems show up unexpectedly on your doorstep, like any joy or loss. Anyone interested in learning more about my writing can find me on Instagram @frederickpoettree and Facebook @fredericklivingston, my website www.fredericklivingston.com or publisher's website https://bit.ly/3GfCj14
Frederick Livingston
Frederick Livingston plants seeds grounded in ecology and experiential education. He is the author of "The Moon and Other Fruits", along with numerous works found in literary magazines, scientific journals, and public spaces. His most recent title, "Trees are Bridges to the Sky", won the Prism Prize for Climate Literature.
Grant Burkhardt
Grant is a poet and writer with work featured in or forthcoming in the Martello Journal, the Great Lakes Review, Nightingale & Sparrow, Icarus, and others. His poem - 'The Thing About People Knowing You Cook' - was a Sundress Publications 'Best of the Net' nominee. He’s also one of the Umbrella's poetry editors and non-fiction editors.
Comments