River Music

In a post earlier this week, I included Charlotte Zolotow’s poem “River Winding,” the title poem from her 1970 children’s collection. I enjoyed reading her poems these past few days, so for Poetry Friday, I thought I’d post another from the collection:

NO ONE WOULD BELIEVE

No one would believe
unless they saw too
as the train passed him
(but it’s true)
facing the river
alone in the wind
an old old man
playing violin.

—From River Winding, by Charlotte Zolotow, originally published in 1970 by Abelard-Schuman; 2nd edition, the one I’m reading, published in 1978, by Crowell; illustrations by Kazue Mizumura)

My thoughts immediately went to those moments on trains when you catch glimpses from the window, snapshots, as the train zips past. Joy, sadness, loneliness—you fill in the picture based on a fleeting impression of what you see. Was what you witnessed actually there? What a great image offered by the poem, an old man playing the violin before the river. Personification (a wizened tree), or something odd and wonderful, a man at the river playing the violin? Playing to the river, a celebration of life? Or mourning its passing? What’s your impression?

This week’s poetry roundup is over at Check It Out. So do.

To find out more about Charlotte Zolotow and her work, please visit her site.