In Bare Apple Boughs

Sparling Mills was a freelance reviewer living in Herring Cove, N.S.

Given the title and the cover picture, one would assume that bough/branch imagery would be powerful in this book. On the contrary. Although the words are often repeated, they never take on any resonance. Even the frequent addition of “stars” does not help.

Merrill is much stronger when he is setting forth relationships. When I read the title, “Perhaps a Middle-aged Barmaid,” I was afraid the poem would be harsh. But no. The poet senses that “something here / is more gentle than it seemed, / a book acknowledged — / we are in this /  together.” And relationships need not be restricted to humans only — a cow is worth getting to know. Merrill sat in the pasture endeavouring “to befriend the cow ... until in recognition / she moved closer, / finally rubbing / her great horned head / against mine.” This empathy causes sadness in “The Frog” and in “The Campus Pest Control.” In the latter, “a dying pigeon, / victim of poisoned wheat,” is shown to the poet. Later he cannot forget the “eyes of the bird”:

simply surprised

its body convulsed with a feeling

it never before knew

It is rather surprising that in this, Tim Merrill’s first published collection of poems, there are only two about physical love. “The Redheaded Girl Whose Name I’ve Forgotten” tells of the time when, twelve years old and never having kissed, he spoke to a girl who set him dreaming of “kissing in dark fields / where the hay / was touched by the moon / that touched her round / farmgirl breasts.” The second love poem is called “Instead of the Cross”: Jesus is “Sitting near a dusty road / outside the village” when “the village whore” comes along, “legs gleaming with moonlight.” The last four lines are “wordless she took him / like a child in her arms / and wordless he entered / her body.” Perhaps shocking to some, it is the most original poem in the book.