The Milky Way, 1968, detail
Joichi Hoshi 1913-1979, Colour woodblock print

In the silence of snowfall I read poems aloud and hear what I want to hear, everything else falls away. There is a simple joy in this. Just as joy can be found in being present, while standing still in an urban blizzard, remembering that each snowflake is completely unique to any other that has fallen before. 

I like this poem, by the american Billy Collins, he was a Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003:

Snow Day

BY BILLY COLLINS

Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,  

its white flag waving over everything,

the landscape vanished,

not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,  

and beyond these windows

the government buildings smothered,

schools and libraries buried, the post office lost  

under the noiseless drift,

the paths of trains softly blocked,

the world fallen under this falling.

In a while, I will put on some boots

and step out like someone walking in water,  

and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,  

and I will shake a laden branch

sending a cold shower down on us both.

But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,  

a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.  

I will make a pot of tea

and listen to the plastic radio on the counter,  

as glad as anyone to hear the news

that the Kiddie Corner School is closed,  

the Ding-Dong School, closed.

the All Aboard Children’s School, closed,  

the Hi-Ho Nursery School, closed,

along with—some will be delighted to hear—

the Toadstool School, the Little School,

Little Sparrows Nursery School,

Little Stars Pre-School, Peas-and-Carrots Day School  

the Tom Thumb Child Center, all closed,

and—clap your hands—the Peanuts Play School.

So this is where the children hide all day,

These are the nests where they letter and draw,  

where they put on their bright miniature jackets,  

all darting and climbing and sliding,

all but the few girls whispering by the fence.

And now I am listening hard

in the grandiose silence of the snow,

trying to hear what those three girls are plotting,  

what riot is afoot,

which small queen is about to be brought down.

Billy Collins, “Snow Day” from Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems (New York: Random House, 2001). Copyright © 2001 by Billy Collins.

Winner of the TS Eliot Prize 2012

Photographed by Marcus Mam, Vogue, September 2012

“Writing or making anything—a poem, a bird feeder, a chocolate cake—has self-respect in it. You’re working. You’re trying. You’re not lying down on the ground, having given up.” —Sharon Olds, 2004

Sharon Olds won the TS Eliot Prize with 'Stag's Leap', I am not writing to announce this news, it has already been publicised. I am simply celebrating her win. You can hear her talking about the collection before she won the prize on Radio 4's Front Row. Enjoy. 

The next 9 poems meet-up will be discussing 9 poems from her winning collection. The date is yet to be fixed.

TS Eliot Prize Readings -Royal Festival Hall, Southbank

Sharon Olds

Sean Borodale

Returning home on a January night, snow flakes started to fall, united and silent. A perfect backdrop for the residual heat still emanating from the evening's poems. So many beautiful words, gifted by the shortlisted TS Eliot Prize poets. 

It was the 20th anniversary year of the prize and the auditorium was mostly full. Ian McMillan, our host, commented on the quality of listening in that hall. Indeed, the idea of listening to poems for two hours can seem daunting. We are not used to such quietude and focus in the busy noise of our days. But listen, we did.

My companion and I enjoyed the readings of Sean Borodale and Sharon Olds, most of all. They both seemed to resonate and imbue their words with a musicality that enabled us to experience truth and meaning. Of course the prize is bestowed upon the best collection...I wonder to what extent these readings will sway the judges decision?

The winner will be announced on Monday 14th January.