Jeanne Lohmann, 1923-2016
I went searching this morning for a list of books by the Quaker poet Jeanne Lohmann to recommend to a friend, and learned 
that she recently died. I don’t know whether to be sad or to rejoice that the world got to share this woman’s light for such a long time.
Some years ago a poem of mine, “Such Good Work,” was a co-winner of the Jeanne Lohmann prize, and as a consequence I was invited to read my work for Olympia Poetry Network. I met Jeanne, who was then 80+, and I bought several of her books. OPN has invited me back twice as their feature — and both times it was a head-first plunge into the poetry mosh pit — such a wild and great group of people to read for and with. They very obviously revered Lohmann. And for good reason.
Here’s a poem reprinted in the Oly-Arts obituary; it is also reprinted on Cordella.org, where Lohmann’s voice reads aloud two other poems:
Questions Before Dark
Day ends, and before sleep
when the sky dies down, consider
your altered state: has this day
changed you? Are the corners
sharper or rounded off? Did you
live with death? Make decisions
that quieted? Find one clear word
that fit? At the sun’s midpoint
did you notice a pitch of absence,
bewilderment that invites
the possible? What did you learn
from things you dropped and picked up
and dropped again? Did you set a straw
parallel to the river, let the flow
carry you downstream?–Jeanne Lohmann
Hi I just caught up on all your last blogs and loved having them to read, I especially loved the poem –
it was orderly and understandable and made me better – by the woman who died, 80 seems much younger to me now at 72 I loved the messiness of life, of Pearl’s relaxed attitude, so much better that way to a point – but she will find the point I’m sure and it was interesting she isn’t making much more than you at that age. It is very telling of our society. What will the next tweet bring.
Jeanne’s poems are SO rewarding to read. Thanks for your feedback on the messiness rant, too. It’s funny how writing about my kids always manages to make me feel better about them. Or it’s not funny — it makes perfect sense.