HARVARD — Spending time at her grandparents’ farm “in the middle of nowhere” in upstate New York gave Loren Cruise the inspiration for her poem “And Not Missing It,” this year’s winner of the John F. Whitcomb Memorial Poetry Award sponsored by the Friends of the Harvard Public Library.
The judges evaluated 21 entries for this year’s competition.
A junior at The Arlington School in Belmont, Cruise has been writing stories and poems since the ninth grade. She initially wrote the poem as a class assignment. The poem will be published in the fall edition of the Friends of the Harvard Public Library newsletter.
Cruise said she’s inspired by the work of poet Billy Collins.
“I like the fact that his subjects are very simple, yet he is really good at describing things,” she said.
Cruise hopes to go on to college, majoring in English or education. She lives on Tahanto Trail with her parents, David and Karen; her sister, Kelsey, who is currently studying at Georgetown University; and her dogs, Cookie and Rosie.
John F. Whitcomb, a doctor and part-time poet, was an active member of the Friends of the Harvard Public Library. His love of poetry and the library led him to initiate and present amateur and professional poetry programs in town. His love of children and young adults expressed itself in many ways.
In his honor, the Friends of the Harvard Public Library established a poetry competition in 2001 for juniors in high school. The prize for winning the competition is $500.
The judges were Ann Levison, Sophie Wadsworth and Ralph DeFlorio. They put in quite a bit of time reading and re-reading the poems and were very thoughtful in their approach and how they decided the winner. There were a lot of very good poems submitted.
And not missing it
Hay is wet under me,
My old pair of jeans
(The ones with the hole
Gaping at the knee)
Absorbs all the moisture.
I take a piece of hay
And twirl it
Between my thumb
And pointer finger.
I am in the middle
Of the world.
In the no-where
Of the world.
I can barely see
The old red barn.
The house is completely
Hidden behind the hill
And the setting sun,
I can do anything I want
Out here.
No one can see me.
No one can hear me.
I feel almost obligated
To rebel,
To go crazy
But instead
I lie down.
Close my eyes,
And feel the water
Seeping through the
Thin sweater I am wearing
And feel the magic
Of seeing nothing
And not missing it.
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