Fred Marchant

Poet and translator, workshop teacher, and manuscript consultation

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library

at the Granary Burial Ground, Boston

when this room was not yet

      a room, when the metal door

and window frames were all

      that said it would ever be a room,

when the cement floors were

      without carpets, when under

the barest of bulbs we looked

      out toward Park Street Church

and saw snow falling, gathering

      on the tilting markers of the

predestined, when first we entered

      this room, and my friend declared

this was sacred space, and I  

      assumed he was thinking of

what we saw outside, the Puritan

      revenants, founders, martyrs,

but now I believe he meant

      what was here in this granary

of words, on shelves brimming

      with the effort to tell what little

we have known, the lessons that

      we forge, forget, and re-learn,

some stored in the poetry,

      those seed-grains we will need

to plant early in the next year.

Fred Marchant's signature

for Sharon Britton

Solstice, 19-20

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Poems

Thoreau quote at Walden PondA Cairn by the Cabin
A Place at the Table, poem by Fred Marchant. Photo by Stefi RubinA Place at the Table
Bristlecone, poem by Fred MarchantBristlecone
library
Olive Harvest, poem by Fred MarchantOlive Harvest
On a Collage by Peter Sacks
St. John's Point, photo and poem by Fred MarchantSt. John’s Point
The Looking House, poem and photo by Fred MarchantThe Looking House Stanza
Migrants, poem and photo by Fred MarchantThe Migrants
The Peach, by Võ Quê
The Salt Stronger, poem and photo by Fred MarchantThe Salt Stronger
Fred Marchant, reading for Warrior WritersTipping Point

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