My poem, “The Irony of Play,” is included in the Winter 2024 print edition of The Schooner (formerly Prairie Schooner). The editors got backed up so the issue just arrived September 2025. This is a beautiful journal, full of brilliant writing. I feel honored to have my work here.
I wrote this poem several years ago to submit to Concrete Wolf’s Cephalopod Anthology. They accepted a different poem, but I always had faith in this one. Jim and I have always been fascinated by this intelligent animal that looks alien! But we formed an even deeper connection when we had an Octopus Encounter for his birthday at the Newport Aquarium. We got to interact one-on-one with Mystery who delighted us by winding her arms gently up our forearms. She accepted shrimp from our fingers and even played with the toys we held out to her. We saw her change color once, bright orange to gray sand pebbles very quickly, then back again. We have never forgotten this profound involvement with a wild creature!
This poem links my first hand knowledge of an octopus with a memory I have of riding on a bus with my grandmother. She never learned to drive so we often took the bus when I stayed with her. Usually the rides were short, but once we were on for along time on a rainy day and maybe into the night. Grandma could make dolls out of anything and I loved them. She was very creative. She even turned a hanky into a toy for me. I was a child with a good imagination and very motherly intentions so I loved even this very simple baby. I comforted it through what was an unsettling journey, although I don’t remember the cause of my worry or where we were going or why.