Tag Archives: Hartford Setting

Latino/a Poets

A Cup of Coffee

A Cup of Coffee

by Bessy Reyna

“Watch me!” I Tell Rob,
the lovely dark-haired friend
who has joined me for lunch
“Watch me, I’ll have to pretend
I don’t know that the coffee is a gift from him.”

We dance the tango

Ricardo, the Argentinian man,
is so happy to see me.
It’s been so long since I had lunch
at this small place
hidden on the second floor of an old building

Rob and I sit by the window
talking about books and watching
the people below us
as they stroll on Pratt Street.

Ricardo whispers to me in a voice
with the cadence of the pampas,
¿Querés un café?  Do you want a cup of coffee?
I know I shouldn’t
it would be one too-many for the day,
but I can taste the offer
the I-want-to-give-you-something
because-I-am-so-happy-to-see-you!
bursting behind the smile

we dance the tango

“Watch me” I say to Rob,
I now have to pretend
that I want to pay for the coffee
and he will refuse to take the money.

The proper behavior
the warmth, generosity,
the nostalgia that engulfs me now
In how many restaurants can you get free coffee
just because the owner is happy to see you?

A native language coming back
to rescue me
transforming me
transporting me

At lunch, we danced the tango.

I say goodbye to Rob,
turn and give Ricardo gracias por el café
before I descend the narrow wooden stairs
that return me to
another culture my brave new world.

Around the corner
a homeless man awaits
“Can I have a dime for a cup of coffee?” he asks
His voice startles me,
I smile
“Come with me and I’ll buy you a coffee”
I tell him, pointing at the
“COFFEE AND PASTRIES” sign a few feet away
“No! Not from there”  he shouts annoyed
“From Dunkin Donuts!!”

Of course, he does not want a cup of coffee
I place some quarters in his extended hand
and walk away smiling
dancing the tango
having paid for my coffee after all.

Previously published in She Remembers by Bessy Reyna, Andrew Mountain Press. 1997.

Used by permission of the author.
Latino/a Poets

Lunch Walk

Lunch Walk

by Bessy Reyna

He came bouncing down the street,
heavy body, long hair, jacket and tie.
There was an oddness about him.
Then, as he approached
I heard the sound of maracas
coming from his pockets.
Was it candy?
I pictured hundreds of multi-colored sweets
crashing against each other,
he, oblivious to the crackling rhythm.
Along Capitol Avenue
our paths crossed,
lunch break nearly over.
How can I explain
being late for work
because I was following a man
who sounded like maracas?

(1997)

Used by permission of the author.
Charles Dudley Warner

Backlog Studies – Introduction and Cast

Backlog Studies

by Charles Dudley Warner

Introduction and Cast of Characters

Backlog refers to the large piece of wood that supports the fire in a large fire place (and therefore lasts longest). In the beginning of the book, Warner expresses his fear that fireplaces are going out of style with the introduction of new technologies for heating homes and that the important things that happen around fireplaces are also destined to disappear, namely conversations with family and neighbors and the contemplation and reflection that fireplaces inspire. The book is a “study” or demonstration of the conversation that fireplaces inspire. Continue reading Backlog Studies – Introduction and Cast →

Lydia Huntley Sigourney

Fall of the Charter Oak

Sigourney wrote several poems in homage to the famous Connecticut tree known as the Charter Oak. This poem was written in the period of state-wide grief when the tree was struck by lightening and fell on August 21, 1856. Hartford even organized a funeral procession for the tree that drew crowds of mourners. The wood from the tree was harvested and turned into keepsakes that can still be viewed at places like the CT Museum of Culture and History and the Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art. Charles De Wolf Brownell’s painting of 1857 is often on view at the Wadsworth, a spectacular homage to the tree whose frame is made from the Charter Oak’s wood. Read what Mark Twain had to say about the Charter Oak on his first visit to Hartford and to the Wadsworth in this anthology (see “Glimpse of Hartford” under Samuel Clemens/Mark Twain.) To learn what made this such an iconic tree and to see an image of Brownell’s painting, go to The Legend of the Charter Oak on Connecticuthistory.org. Continue reading Fall of the Charter Oak →

Wallace Stevens

St. Armorer’s Church from the Outside  

An armorer is a manufacturer of firearms. There is no real “St. Armorer.”  Stevens got the idea for him from the Church of the Good Shepherd on Wyllys Street in Hartford. This church was built to honor Samuel Colt, the wealthy manufacturer of firearms—most famously the Colt pistol—who lived in Hartford. It is now part of Coltsville National Historical Park.  The most striking aspect of this church is the Armorer’s Porch which features Colt pistols and other gun parts carved into its façade (see photos below). Continue reading St. Armorer’s Church from the Outside   →

Wallace Stevens

The Plain Sense of Things

“The Plain Sense of Things” also takes place in Elizabeth Park.  It is late autumn, the leaves have fallen, and the park looks bare.  The greenhouse is exposed in all its dilapidation.  The water lilies on the pond are now just “waste.”  It seems to Stevens that this is how the world would look if one had no imagination.  He wonders if the depression he feels, looking at this barren scene, means that his own imagination has failed.  But no.  He realizes that “the absence of the imagination had / Itself to be imagined.” His perception of this scene, his feelings about it, and his description of it in this poem are themselves imaginative acts.   Our imaginations are always at work. Continue reading The Plain Sense of Things →

Wallace Stevens

Nuns Painting Water-Lilies 

This poem was inspired by something Stevens saw in Elizabeth Park.  In a letter to a friend, he wrote, “Until quite lately a group of nuns came [to Elizabeth Park] each morning to paint water colors especially of the water lilies” (L 610).  In this poem he imagines the nuns’ thoughts.  As they paint, they ponder the miraculous beauty of life which seems to them “supernatural” in origin.  This experience awakens in them a refreshing clarity of mind and spirit.  They feel that this is a “special day” and that they themselves are an integral part of it.  There were several French orders of nuns in the Hartford area, which explains all the French terms in the poem. Continue reading Nuns Painting Water-Lilies  →

Wallace Stevens

Vacancy in the Park

During Stevens’s years in Hartford (1916-1955) he made sure he always lived near Elizabeth Park. His final home at 118 Westerly Terrace is only a short walk from the park. He walked in the park almost every day.  “Vacancy in the Park” is set in Elizabeth Park on a cold day in March. Stevens notices the footprints of someone who has walked across the freshly fallen snow. To describe the way this makes him feel, he invents three similes (“It is like…”).  How does each simile make you feel? The poem concludes, “The four winds blow through the rustic arbor, / Under its mattresses of vines.”  You can see that rustic arbor covered with vines in the center of the famous Rose Garden in Elizabeth Park.  (This is the first municipal rose garden in the United States and the third largest rose garden in the country today.) Continue reading Vacancy in the Park →

Wallace Stevens

Of Hartford in a Purple Light

This poem imagines that the sun, making its daily westward journey to Hartford, brings with it all the appealing aspects of Europe. The warm “purple” light of late afternoon in Hartford reminds Stevens of the romantic allure of Paris, with the legendary beauty of its women and its rich cultural atmosphere (for instance, the elaborate architecture and musical splendor of the Paris Opera House).  He jokingly compares the sun to a French poodle, wet from its trip over the ocean, shaking off a shower of iridescent drops that transform Hartford (“the town, the river, the railroad”) into a sparkling paradise. Continue reading Of Hartford in a Purple Light →