Andrena Zawinski

Andrena Zawinski

 

Andrena Zawinski, born and raised in Pittsburgh, PA, has made her home in Alameda, CA since 2000. Her latest poetry collection, Landings, is from Kelsay Books (Hemet, CA). She has published two previous full collections of poetry: Something About (Blue Light Press, San Francisco, CA), a PEN Oakland Josephine Miles Award recipient, and Traveling in Reflected Light (Pig Iron Press, Youngstown, OH), a Kenneth Patchen competition winner. She has also authored four chapbooks and is editor of Turning a Train of Thought Upside Down: An Anthology of Women’s Poetry. Her poems have received accolades for free verse, form, lyricism, spirituality, and social concern. She founded and runs the San Francisco Bay Area Women’s Poetry Salon and is Features Editor at PoetryMagazine.com.

In Landings, Zawinski presents poems that embrace, in original ways and with deep-rooted emotional power, the worldwide condition of women, immigrants, and the working class alongside an abiding reverence for the natural world. Of this work, Jan Beatty says Zawinski is the necessary voice of the truth teller, speaking trouble among the beauty. Rebecca Foust lauds the collection as a book that offers wisdom and solace and one you will take comfort in reading again and again. Carolyne Wright goes on to say in these Landings, she embraces the richness of human experience and praises the courage of those who go on ‘living as if they could do anything.’

Nocturnal Haibun


I will think it a pity that you have no way
to remember tonight’s play of light.––Kawabata

Caravaggio powdered his paints with their iridescence.
In Frost’s garden, they were real stars to fill the skies.
Children contain their flickering dance in Mason jars,
smear the emerald brilliance around fingers and wrists.

                           sparks of fireflies
                           ignite summer’s shimmering
                           nocturnal courtship

They are Cherokee torches turning dark into starry nights,
Japanese hotaru of passionate love, Chinese hing hoy
souls of the dead.

                            dancing on night air
                            luminaries in shadows
                            make concerts of light