Finding a Use for a
Rough Stone Wall by Lionel E. Deimel
Returning to the house from the deck,
I rest my coffee on a protruding stone
To free a hand for the doorknob.
I retrieve my cup and slip through the doorway,
Astonished that I had never done that before.
I had just finished reading a couple of chapters
of Ted Kooserís new book,
The Poetry Home Repair Manual, when I experienced what is
described in this poem. Several pieces of advice that I had just read
factored into its composition, including the notion that poems often
arenít begun with ideas, and the suggestion that a title can free
the poet from the need to cram too much detail into the poem itself.
Kooser indeed seems correct in suggesting that the poetís ideas emerge
through the poetry, even when it was not his intent to place them
there. The moral of this poem, I suppose, is that we sometimes make
discoveries quite unconsciously. And, of course, we might miss them if
we arenít paying attention.