As I considered what poem to share for my second week in the poetry box, I got the word that Tony Abbott, beloved Davidson College professor and fixture of the Charlotte, NC, poetry scene, had died. Tony was my teacher when I was in my mid-20s, in evening classes he offered to the community, driving from Davidson to Charlotte just to be in the company of other poets. I was young and unsure of myself, desperate to learn how to express myself on the page, and Tony made a warm and embracing space for me to come to. Without question, I am the writer and teacher I am today because of the sense of welcome Tony made for me and for the way he modeled a life in which an enthusiastic love of words served as guide. I was able to be at Tony’s last poetry reading, at Main Street Books in Davidson in 2018, an event infused with love and language. Tony’s glee at sharing his poems with his community was palpable and I carried it with me back to my life in Austin, grateful to know him. His poem “Leavings” was the perfect poem to show my appreciation of Tony and all he brought to the world.
“Bless you, older brother.
May my leavings be so rich.”
Leavings
(for my father)
Outside my window a gnarled old oak
leans precariously on his elbow
snarling at his successors
wrapped smugly in their canvas diapers
and waiting
to be lowered
into the hard winter earth.
The other arm is gone,
the socket painted closed
with that preservative we use
to keep the old from rotting.
Knots bulge from his side like tumors.
Still
I think I like him better
than all those thin skinned babies
packed lightly
in their little holes.
He’s not so predictable.
In the spring he’ll flower strangely
and dance his own configurations
in the wind.
Bless you, older brother.
May my leavings be so rich.
from The Girl in the Yellow Raincoat (1989)
by Anthony Abbott, who died this week
and leaves a legacy in his great love of poems