Inside/Outside by Karen Arnold

Karen Arnold writes: As a literary wanderer, my journey has included: being Poet-in-Residence at Montpelier Cultural arts Center in Laurel, MD; teaching at universities in the United States, Sweden and Norway; teaching creative writing and autobiography writing to adults and children; creating and facilitating reading and discussion series in Literature and Medicine and for veterans in conjunction with Maryland Humanities, local hospitals, libraries and cultural arts centers. Along the way I got a Masters and Ph.D. at the University of Maryland College Park where I worked with Reed Whittemore, former US Poet Laureate and spent a year as assistant Director of Freshman Composition. I live and work in Maryland within easy reach of the wide ocean beaches I love.

On an icy winter night, wind blowing snow like glitter, sky gauzed with clouds, I wrapped in a long robe and scarf—stepped out to watch a lunar eclipse. Near midnight, in snow quiet, I felt removed from the world, despite the row of townhouses I stood in front of. My daughters, a missing mother; Sissel, my friend I was certain was watching in Trondheim, played through my mind as the slow disc began to erase the full moon. In minutes I had to return to the house for warmth but my mind stayed busy….myths, fortune tellers telling fortunes on nights like this, ideas of rebirth and disappearance. I knew the process would be slow so ventured out to mark the moon’s erasure. I got so cold I gave up and went inside, up to my kitchen where wide sliding doors framed the moon’s last phase of surrender. Holding a cup of peppermint tea, I stood transfixed…Alice in Wonderland’s strange world of croquet and an eccentric queen swirled in the steam with The Lady of the Lake…Druid of mystic power and ancient rites. I moved to the door, mesmerized. With my cheek against the cold reminder of my separation, I felt pulled to worlds steeped in mystery and delights...the moon’s elusive kingdom. This is one of three eclipse poems that came to and through me that night.