National Poetry Month Day 2
“I will break that bread with my fingers, tear it with my teeth, and offer it, as best I can, into your hands. I will trust that you will think it good, that you will understand, and eat.”
Mary Carroll-Hackett is a cook, a gardener, a teacher, mother, grandmother, poet, friend. She is one of those rare individuals who exudes positiveness in the dark, a smart, insightful and dedicated being. It is a privilege to know her, to get a glimpse of her life as we do, now, mainly on the FB. She teases with the bounty from her many gardens, meals lovingly prepared for her sons, teaching her students how to cook as she teaches them to write, taking up sewing to make unique and colorful hats for children undergoing cancer treatment — creative gifts from the heart. In Instead of Prayer, she re-writes communion, home-made. Could be in a trailer. It comes to us across generations through the grit of teeth and tearing.
About Trailer Park Oracle from Carroll-Hackett’s Website:
This is a book that peers from the edges of wild places: from the flickerings of a French film to the heady thrills of train trestles, from the doorways of long-abandoned houses to the quiet of the vigils at the hospital bed. With a voice both gentle and fierce, Carroll-Hackett’s poems are unafraid to see us as the aching creatures we are, to ask the hard questions of language and loss, not even flinching as they reveal the wonder and pain of our very world like the title poem’s Oracle, “calling them as they played, no cushioning of the blow.” — Amy Tudor, author of A Book of Birds and Studies in Extinction