Poem-a-Day - "O" by Claire Wahmanholm

Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
May 2, 2020  

O


Claire Wahmanholm
Once there was an opening, an operation: out of which oared the ocean, then oyster and oystercatcher, opal and opal-crowned tanager. From ornateness came the ornate flycatcher and ornate fruit dove. From oil, the oilbird. O is for opus, the Orphean warbler’s octaves, the oratorio of orioles. O for the osprey’s ostentation, the owl and its collection of ossicles. In October’s ochre, the orchard is overgrown with orange and olive, oleander and oxlip. Ovals of dew on the oatgrass. O for obsidian, onyx, ore, for boreholes like inverted obelisks. O for the onion’s concentric O’s, observable only when cut, for the opium oozing from the poppy’s globe only when scored. O for our organs, for the os of the cervix, the double O’s of the ovaries plotted on the body’s plane to mark the origin. O is the orbit that cradles the eye. The oculus opens an O to the sky, where the starry outlines of men float like air bubbles between us and oblivion. Once there were oarfish, opaleyes, olive flounders. Once the oxbows were not overrun with nitrogen. O for the mussels opening in the ocean’s oven. O for the rising ozone, the dropping oxygen, for algae overblooming like an omen or an oracle. O Earth, out-gunned and out-manned. O who holds the void inside itself. O who has made orphans of our hands.

Copyright © 2020 by Claire Wahmanholm. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 2, 2020 by the Academy of American Poets.

Subscribe to the Poem-a-Day Podcast 

  

“Since becoming a parent, more and more of my time has been spent with children’s books. Their reliance on sonic play—rhyme, meter, alliteration, assonance—make many of them a delight to read. They were a way of re-entering the lushness of language in those early months when I was away from my own writing. When I did get back to the page, I kept thinking about alphabet books, especially those featuring animals. They say to children: look, the world is a vast kaleidoscope; look, its creatures are miraculous. But what if we were honest? If we said that koalas will vanish, and zebras, and orangutans, and that we—the authors of these books—are ensuring their vanishing? O is the sound of both praise and dismay. It’s the sound my mouth is always making.”
Claire Wahmanholm

Claire Wahmanholm is the author of Redmouth (Tinderbox Editions, 2019). She lives and teaches in the Twin Cities.

Redmouth
(Tinderbox Editions, 2019) 

Judges’ Citation by Julia Alvarez and Bill McKibben

“O” is an original and powerful evocation, using a single letter of the alphabet to name the wonders that are at risk of being no more. The poem conjures up each loss, barely giving us time to recover before the next loss is summoned. Its skillful use of rhythm, the lamentation of sounds, the cornucopia of imagery are a sweeping reminder of how much we stand to lose. A primer of what’s to come. The voice is prophetic and unrelenting, a lament, an elegy, and a clarion call to action!

About the Treehouse Climate Action Poem Prize 

Claire Wahmanholm’s “O” is the second place winner of the inaugural Treehouse Climate Action Poem Prize. Established in 2019 with generous support from Treehouse Investments, the prize is given to honor exceptional poems that help make real for readers the gravity of the vulnerable state of our environment at present. Beginning with the Saturday after Earth Day, Poem-a-Day will feature this year’s three winners.


“Ballard Locks” by Paisley Rekdal
“The Night the Rain Had Nowhere to Go” by William Woolfitt

Thanks to Monica Youn, author of Blackacre (Graywolf Press, 2016), who curated Poem-a-Day for this month’s weekdays. Read an extended Q&A about Youn’s curatorial approach and find out more about our guest editors for the year.
Make a one-time contribution to help us publish Poem-a-Day. 
Make your support go further by enrolling in monthly giving and joining the Mug Club!
Copyright © 2020 The Academy of American Poets, All rights reserved.
You are receiving this email because you opted in via our website.

Our mailing address is:
The Academy of American Poets
75 Maiden Lane
St #901
New York, NY 10038

Add us to your address book


View this email in your browser

Want to change how you receive these emails?
You can or .

Older messages

"I Looked on My Right Hand and Beheld" by Zoë Hitzig

Friday, May 1, 2020

a hand made out of all that it touched— Facebook Twitter Instagram Support Poem-a-Day May 1, 2020 I Looked on My Right Hand and Beheld Zoë Hitzig a hand made out of all that it touched— fingers of

Join us Tonight for Shelter in Poems

Thursday, April 30, 2020

A Free Virtual Reading Join us for Shelter in Poems: A Virtual Reading Tonight at 7:30 pm EDT RSVP We look forward to sharing an evening of poetry with you. The evening will include poems presented by:

"Struggle Itself" by Cedar Sigo

Thursday, April 30, 2020

Just that piece / of the poem you could hear Facebook Twitter Instagram Support Poem-a-Day April 30, 2020 Struggle Itself Cedar Sigo for Diane di Prima Just that piece of the poem you could hear the

"This Morning" by Luci Tapahonso

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

The screech of the recycling truck jolted me awake. Facebook Twitter Instagram Support Poem-a-Day April 29, 2020 This Morning Luci Tapahonso The screech of the recycling truck jolted me awake. It was

Shelter in Poems: "singing / love poems to neighbors"

Tuesday, April 28, 2020

Join us this Thursday, April 30 As National Poetry Month comes to a close, many of us will have weathered a month of solitude in an act of solidarity to protect each other. During these weeks, poetry

You Might Also Like

‘Janet Planet’ Shows Us the Power and Possibility of Queer Childhood

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Queerness as curiosity ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

5 Strategies for a Cheaper Thanksgiving Dinner 🦃

Sunday, November 17, 2024

The Best Gadgets to Keep You Warm. Inflation hurts, but you can still serve a delicious bounty without destroying your budget. Not displaying correctly? View this newsletter online. TODAY'S

The Weekly Wrap #187

Sunday, November 17, 2024

11.17.2024 ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

Weekend: Frosted Lips Are Having a Comeback 💋

Sunday, November 17, 2024

— Check out what we Skimm'd for you today November 17, 2024 Subscribe Read in browser Header Image Together with Nulastin But first: our latest lash and brow obsession Update location or View

How Dems Can Avoid Falling into Trump's Trap

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Democrats must find a way to push back against Trump without becoming the defenders of a broken political system ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

5 takeaways from Michelin’s Texas debut

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Lone stars in the Lone Star State. ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌

Your Week Ahead Reading 11/18 to 11/25 2024

Sunday, November 17, 2024

The highlight of this week is that Pluto enters Aquarius for the next 19 years, and it will never be in Capricorn again in this lifetime. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

RI#250 - World history/Gut health/Stay connected

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Hello again! My name is Alex and every week I share with you the 5 most useful links for self-improvement and productivity that I have found on the web. ---------------------------------------- You are

Chicken Shed Chronicles.

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Inspiration For You. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

"Sufficient" by Ina Donna Coolbrith

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Citron, pomegranate, / Apricot, and peach, Facebook Twitter Instagram Poem-a-Day is reader-supported. Your gift today will help the Academy of American Poets continue to publish the work of 260 poets