April 29th is national Poem In Your Pocket Day. A strange, yet fun excuse to carry bits of paper around with you, along with fuzz and pennies. I'll be carrying the poem "Day of Foreboding" by Stanley Kunitz, because it's pretty short, and I like short poems, especially when I'm trying to convince random people to read from scraps I'm pulling from my pockets. I love this poem because the title is ridiculously clever. But also because when I read this poem, I feel anything but foreboding. The irony strikes me like, well, hot iron. The first line reads "Great events are about to happen." It makes me think of Mr. Ollivander in Harry Potter, which is bizarre, I know. But he made a point of explaining that great deeds can still be terrible deeds. Is that what Kunitz is saying? Are great events terrible events? Should we be scared of what's coming? Mid-poem, Kunitz does do something frightening; he alludes to enormous flocks or birds, and if that doesn't frighten you, go watch some Hitchcock films and get back to me. The poem ends with the speaker "waiting for the uncertain signal to resume a long march." Maybe I'm too excited about Poem In Your Pocket Day to pick up on the foreboding, or maybe I'm just so darn optimistic, I've really flown the coop, but this poem gives me chills and goose pimples of the good kind. Like I don't care if what's coming is good or bad, just bring it on. The anxiety of waiting is intense, though the poem is so very short (nine lines). This poem is a thriller, a small gift from me to you. Look it up.
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