A few of my framing customers have upon occasion given me gifts of appreciation and Saturday, one gave me this book of the poems of Mary Jo Salter. This 1999 collection is an exceptional one that encompasses so many moods and historical events shown in a personal and eloquent manner:
…When the Mir/ invited the first American/ astronaut to swim in the pool/ of knowledge with Russians, he floated/ exactly as he would have in space/ stations of our own; no lane/ to stay in, no line to determine/ the deep end, Norman Thagard/ hovered on the ceiling something/ like an angel in a painting/ (but done without the hard/ outline sof Botticelli; more/ like a seraph’s sonogram),/ and turned to Yelena Kondakova/ as his cheek received her kiss. (p. 80)
This is from the title poem, A Kiss in Space. What ethereal reality here. What wonderful incongruity of down-to-earth in a space setting. The wall between is a blur, as Salter states in the opening lines of the poem, "That the picture in The Times is a blur is itself an accuracy." There’s a softness to the image given the Botticelli angel, and yet describes it as not having the hardness. She goes on to describe the American flag as being "hung in a stiff crumple, because it would not fall" (naturally, as it would on earth). There’s such a contrast of images that elegantly tie in the most obvious contrast of all: the Russians and the Americans and their history.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology