Minnesota Prairie Roots

Writing and photography by Audrey Kletscher Helbling

I welcome thee to Minnesota, warm Spring May 17, 2011

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Oh, glorious Spring of warmth and sun, I welcome thee to Minnesota. Thou hath been too long absent.

Thy clouds have overshadowed this land, casting weariness upon the souls of all who dwell here.

Thy waters have poured forth from the heavens and fraught despair in the hearts of those who till the soil.

They who shelter the beasts of the earth have anguished.

But thou hath arrived in green pastures where cattle graze.

The sheep eat of the new grass.

And the mighty trees bask in thy beauty.

The people note the quiet unfurling of the leaves. Thou hath caused them to rejoice.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Pigs and poetry May 14, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 8:00 AM
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This pig greets diners at Piggy Blue's Bar-B-Que in Austin, Minnesota. This image is posted here for pig illustration purposes only, not because it's specifically related to the following story.

IN A WEEK, my sister-in-law is moving from Minot, North Dakota, to Missouri. In August, my brother-in-law, an Air Force man, will join her and their young son.

She’s leaving early to seed the garden, plant the orchard and ponder the purchase of pigs. This has always been Jamie’s dream, to own a country acreage where she can grow fruits and vegetables and raise an Old McDonald variety of animals.

Chickens, rabbits, goats and a pig or two comprise her animal acquisition list.

But about those pigs…I overheard a man advising her last Saturday to “hold off” on the pigs for awhile. He didn’t give a reason, only suggested she wait.

Her husband, Neil, although supportive of his wife’s plan, also has reservations about the swine. If Jamie wants a pig, Neil says he can shoot one. He would be right. The Missouri Department of Conservation advises residents to “shoot ’em on sight” in an online article about the problem of feral pigs running rampant.

Thankfully we do not have a wild pig problem in Minnesota. Our problem would be an overabundance of deer.

But we do have a book of pig poetry featuring 133 pig poems penned by 103 poets like Robert Bly, Louise Erdrich and Bill Holm. Red Dragonfly Press, a solely poetry not-for-profit literary organization based in Red Wing, published Low Down and Coming On: A Feast of Delicious and Dangerous Poems About Pigs. James P. Lenfestey edited the 232-page anthology printed last October.

Tomorrow (May 15) several of the pig penning poets, including Lenfestey, will read from the book at a “Pig Gig” slated for 2 p.m. at the Litchfield Opera House in Litchfield.

Now if my sister-in-law wasn’t preoccupied with packing for Missouri, I’d propose she check out this pig gig for pig pointers prior to purchasing pigs.

© Text and Piggy Blue’s photo copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Five years after a hit-and-run driver struck my son May 12, 2011

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I live on one of Faribault's busiest residential streets, also a main route for the ambulance.

FIVE YEARS AGO TODAY on May 12, 2006, my then 12-year-old son was struck by a car as he crossed the street to his school bus stop.

Less than a block from home, his slender body slammed against a car and then somersaulted through the air. He landed dazed, shaken and injured along the side of the street.

Fear, unlike any I had ever experienced, gripped my heart and consumed my very being on that cool and drizzly May morning two days before Mother’s Day. In the minutes between my awareness of the accident and the confirmation that my son was OK, I feared the worst—that I had lost my boy.

I had not. He suffered only a broken bone in his hand, a bump on his head, scrapes and a possible rib fracture. Minor injuries, really, compared to what could have been.

For too many parents, the tragic death of a child is reality and I wonder how they cope. Via faith, family and friends? Somehow they manage to go on living.

In my son’s case, I also wonder how the driver copes. He/she fled the scene and has never been found. How can that driver of a blue, 4-door Chevrolet Cavalier or Corsica live with his/her actions?

It is incomprehensible to me that anyone could strike a child with a vehicle and then simply drive away.

Faribault police, early on, suspected the driver had a reason—ie. driving without a license, driving drunk, no insurance, prior record—to leave.

Despite numerous leads, including one which came via an anonymous letter penned by someone with a personal vendetta against a named suspect and another which led investigators to a prison cell, a credible suspect has never been found.

On several occasions police thought they were close to finding the driver. I have not given up hope that the driver can still be found—if conscience finally prevails and/or an individual with knowledge of this too-long-hidden secret chooses to do the right thing and step forward with information.

While the statute of limitations expired three years after the hit-and-run, Neal Pederson of the Faribault Police Department tells me that the case remains open and that his office will follow up on any tips or leads. He noted, however, that if the driver lived out of state for a period of time, the clock stops and the crime could still be investigated and charged.

Anyone with information about the hit-and-run can anonymously call the Faribault Police Department tip line at 507-334-0999 or Crime Stoppers of Minnesota at 1-800-222-8477.

I don’t dwell on finding the driver. A $1,000 reward offered several years ago for information leading to the arrest and conviction of the hit-and-run driver is no longer valid. I always hoped that honesty and decency, not a monetary reward, would be the motivating factors in solving this case.

As five years have passed, many, many times I have thanked God for protecting my son from worse injury.

Sometimes still—when I hear the screaming wail of an ambulance as it passes my house along our busy street or when I read a news story about a hit-and-run or drunk driving death—I think of that May morning when my son was struck.

I try to forget. But a memory like this remains forever.

LAST YEAR I WROTE the following poem, which won honorable mention in the poetry division of a state-wide anthology competition. “Hit-and-Run” printed in The Talking Stick, Volume 19, Forgotten Roads, published by The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc.

Hit-and-Run

 In that moment, I know,

as the rivulets of water course down my body,

as I step from the tub

dripping puddles onto the linoleum,

that the sirens wail

for you,

my boy, my only son.

#

You, who tossed your backpack

over your bony shoulders,

then hurried

toward the street,

toward the bus stop.

#

While I showered,

you crossed carelessly,

your fragile body bouncing

off the car

you had not seen,

flailing in a somersault,

landing hard on the pavement.

Sirens scream, and I know.

#

Panic grips,

holds tight my heart,

my very soul,

as I race from the bathroom,

wrapped in a bath towel,

stand immobile,

watching the pulsating red lights

of the police car

angled on the street,

blocking the path to you.

#

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Waiting for the royal wedding April 28, 2011

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Kate can.

Will will.

Vow vows.

We watch.

Camera coverage.

Media mania.

Her hair.

He’s heir.

Princely pair.

Bridal bouquet.

Guarded gown.

Secrets secured.

Time ticking.

Guests gathering.

World waiting.

Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Count me in on Roadside Poetry April 26, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 6:53 AM
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“We’ve selected YOUR poem for our spring Roadside Poetry installment!”

For nearly a month now, I’ve kept that exciting, boldfaced news mostly to myself, sharing it with only my immediate family, my mom and a few select friends and extended family members.

But now that the billboards are up—yes, I said billboards—I no longer feel obligated to keep this a secret.

I won the spring Roadside Poetry competition and my poem now sprawls across four billboards, Burma Shave style, 50 yards apart in Fergus Falls.

That’s it, my poem, the winning poem, which is posted along North Tower Road west of Minnesota State Community and Technical College in Fergus Falls, just down the road from Fleet Farm. Take exit 54 off I-94 on the west edge of Fergus.

Paul Carney, the project coordinator who delivered the good news to me via e-mail in early March, tells me that 100,000 vehicles drive by the billboards each month. “How’s that for readership?” he asks.

Well, mighty fine, Paul. Mighty fine.

Getting my poetry out there in this unusual, highly-public venue really is an honor for me, adding to my poems already published in two magazines and four, soon-to-be five, anthologies.

The mission of The Roadside Poetry Project “is to celebrate the personal pulse of poetry in the rural landscape,” according to roadsidepoetry.org. The first poem went up in September 2008 and was, interestingly enough, written by another Faribault resident, Larry Gavin, a writer and Faribault High School English teacher.

The poems, all seasonally-themed, change four times a year. Mine will be up through the third week of June when a summer poem replaces it. Yes, entries are currently being accepted for the summer competition.

About now you’re likely, maybe, wondering how I heard about this contest. I honestly cannot remember. But I do remember thinking, “I can do this.” So one night I sat down with a notebook and pencil and started jotting down phrases.

Like most writers, I strive to find the exact/precise/perfect/right words.

I scribbled and scratched and thought and wrote and crossed out and jotted and erased and counted and filled several notebook pages.

These poems do not simply pop, like that, into my head, onto paper.

To add to the complexity of this process, poets are tasked with creating poetic imagery that describes the wonderment of the season, all in four lines. But there’s more. Each line can include no more than 20 characters.

Now that character limitation, my friends, presents a challenge. Just when I thought I had nailed a phrase, I counted too many characters. Again and again, I had to restart until, finally, I had shaped and molded the poem I would submit.

“I love the language and the imagery,” project leader Paul said of my winning spring poem.

Honestly, when I wrote this poem, I could feel the sun warming my back as I stooped to drop slips of zinnia seeds into the cold, damp earth. Visualizing has always been a part of my creative process. Choosing the words “vernal equinox” simply seemed so much more poetic than the single, plain word, “spring.”

Even though Paul loved my poem and it fit the contest guidelines, there was a problem: Audrey Kletscher Helbling. Count and you get 23 characters and two spaces in my name, putting me five over the 20-character limit.

I understood the space limitations, but explained to Paul that I really wanted Audrey Kletscher Helbling, not Audrey Helbling, on the billboard because that’s my professional name. He agreed to see if the sign-maker could fit my full name and keep it readable. From my experience years ago writing newspaper headlines, I knew that the letters “l” and “i” took less space than other letters. The sign-maker was able to honor my request.

I haven’t been up to Fergus Falls yet to see my poem and Audrey Kletscher Helbling splashed across four billboards. But a trip will be forthcoming.

FYI: Paul Carney hopes to expand Roadside Poetry, supported in Fergus Falls by the Fergus Area College Foundation, to other locations in Minnesota. However, additional funding is needed to finance start-up, printing and other costs. If you would like to support this public art venue, have questions, need more information or wish to enter the seasonal contest, visit roadsidepoetry.org.

© Text copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

Photos courtesy of Paul Carney

 

Poetry in abandoned buildings February 22, 2011

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I photographed this abandoned building along a country road near Kasota last fall.

ABANDONED FARMHOUSES and rural buildings have always held a special fascination for me.

As odd as this seems, I see poetry in these buildings that lean against the landscape, that view the world through shattered lenses.

I often wonder: Who lived or worked here? Why was this farmhouse or barn or outbuilding or schoolhouse abandoned, left to decay in the elements? I feel a certain sense of sadness knowing that once this building stood strong and proud.

But, yet, I manage to see the beauty in the bones that remain—in weathered boards muted to soft shades of gray, in crooked doors clinging to rusty hinges, in roofs that sag under the weight of time.

In my mind, I have personified this abandoned building, given it new life, through my photos and my poetic thoughts.

HOW ABOUT YOU—do you see what I see in old buildings? Share your thoughts in a comment.

© Copyright 2011 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Poetry and cheesecake October 1, 2010

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My daughter's homemade chocolate cheesecake, my birthday cake.

I FELT JUST LIKE a queen, waiting patiently at the dining room table to be served a slice of decadent chocolate cheesecake.

I must say, it’s a wonderful feeling to be on the receiving, rather than the giving, end. And that’s how it is now when I celebrate my birthday.

On Monday, a day after my birthday, my daughter drove down from Minneapolis for an appointment and later dinner out with me, her dad and her brother. But afterward, ah after that meal, I really enjoyed the celebration.

My first-born had baked a from-scratch, all-chocolate cheesecake. She clued us in that the recipe called for melted peanut butter chips mixed into the chocolate batter. But she scorched the peanut butter chips and had to substitute chocolate chips. That produced some gentle teasing about a many-years-earlier chocolate pudding cake disaster.

Clearly, she’s learned a thing or two about cooking and baking as the cheesecake was pure chocolate perfection.

As much as I enjoyed the rich creamy dessert, even more I appreciated that my daughter chose to make a cheesecake. She knows it’s my favorite dessert.

Then I opened my gift from her and appreciated even more that my eldest had chosen items perfectly suited for me. She didn’t buy just any old thing just to give me a present. Rather, she shopped at a south Minneapolis antique store—one with lots of antlers and a place she nearly walked out of due to all those antlers on the walls.

Inside the antique shop, she found a slim volume of poetry, Minnesota Skyline, published in 1953. The book wasn’t priced, she said, and clerks discussed, in front of her, the price she should pay.

Minnesota Skyline, a vintage poetry collection I think worthy of reprinting.

I flipped through the pages and knew I would enjoy this collection with poems like “Wind in the Corn,” “Pioneers of Southern Minnesota,” and “Spring on the Prairie.”

I haven’t had time yet to indulge in the anthology. But that evening, after I opened my daughter’s gift of poetry, I read aloud a verse from “Delano on Saturday Night” by Margaret Horsch Stevens of Montrose:

Men, bent, with toil, feel younger in the glare

Of lights, exchanging jokes and arguments;

And women brighten as they meet and talk

Of recent births, and brides, and home events.

We laughed as we pictured families gathered in downtown Delano on a Saturday night in the 1950s. How times have changed.

After that impromptu poetry reading, I pulled four slim yellow trays from my birthday gift bag. Once again, my daughter had selected an ideal present for me. I collect vintage metal trays and these were unlike any I have or any I’ve seen. For now I’ve propped two atop a shelf—art leaning against a wall.

My daughter gave me four vintage metal trays for my collection.

There’s something to be said for aging, when you can see your children as grown adults, who are caring and loving and giving and who know that you love poetry and cheesecake.

My husband also remembered my birthday with a colorful daisy bouquet.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

The Lund Press, Inc., of Minneapolis published Minnesota Skyline.

 

My unforgettable “road” poem publishes in The Talking Stick, Forgotten Roads September 15, 2010

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TYPICALLY WHEN I write poetry, I turn to my past, to childhood memories.

That’s evident by my poems published in three volumes of Poetic Strokes, A Regional Anthology of Poetry from Southeastern Minnesota:  “Abandoned Farmhouse,” “Prairie Sisters,” “Walking Beans,” “Saturday night baths,” and “A school without a library.”

Occasionally I deviate from that trip down memory lane. “Lord, My Rock” published in the fall 2004 issue of The Lutheran Digest and “Tribute to a Korean War Veteran” published in the May/June 2009 issue of Minnesota Moments magazine.

My latest in-print-poem also detours from my typical subject of childhood days, although it stays on the road of memories, albeit this one a heart-wrenching, emotional recent memory.

“Hit-and-Run” has just published in The Talking Stick, Forgotten Roads, Volume Nineteen, debuting this Saturday at a Book Release Party in the Northwoods Bank Community Room in Park Rapids.

The poem looks back to May 12, 2006, the day my then 12-year-old son was struck by a hit-and-run driver while crossing the street just a short distance from our home. Thankfully, my boy was not seriously injured. But the driver was never found and the memories of that horrible incident still linger. Now I’m sharing, in poetic verse, how that morning unfolded emotionally for me. Certainly, I have not forgotten this road.

Apparently my words resonated with the editors who reviewed the 200-plus poems submitted in this literary competition. “Hit-and-Run” was among the top seven poems selected by the editorial board for prize consideration by noted Minnesota poet Heid Erdrich. My poem earned an honorable mention.

“A terrifying imagery/memory,” Erdrich partially wrote in her evaluation.

Indeed.

If you would like to read my poem, the other winning poems and the fiction and creative non-fiction published in this latest collection by writers with a connection to Minnesota, check out the online purchasing options at The Jackpine Writers’ Bloc. The Park Rapids/Menahga-based group annually publishes The Talking Stick, which is sold by the Writers’ Bloc and several northern Minnesota bookstores.

I’ve read two of the past anthologies and I promise that you will enjoy some top-notch writing by emerging and established Minnesota writers. The Talking Stick has an excellent, long-standing reputation and I’m proud to be published in it.

If you’re a writer, consider entering the 2011 The Talking Stick competition. Submissions call for the 20th volume goes out in December with a March 1, 2011, submission deadline.

Finally, if you’re in the Park Rapids area this weekend, consider attending the book release party, which begins at 1 p.m. Writers published in The Talking Stick, Forgotten Roads, will read their works beginning at 2 p.m. No, I won’t be there as I have another commitment. But you’ll meet plenty of other Minnesota writers anxious to sell their books or compare notes on this journey we call writing.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Celebrating words and art in Paul Bunyan land August 19, 2010

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Paul Bunyan's sweetheart, Lucette Diana Kensack

I’VE BEEN INVITED to Hackensack, home of Paul Bunyan’s sweetheart. Lucette Diana Kensack lives (or technically, stands) along the shores of Birch Lake next to a quaint 1930s log cabin that is the Hackensack Lending Library.

The lakeside of the Hackensack Lending Library. To the left stands Lucette.

Just down the road along First Street sits a sweet, pink fairy tale cottage.

Unfortunately, I’m not traveling to Hackensack, which lies midway between Brainerd and Bemidji and marks the half-way point on The Paul Bunyan Trail. I was just in Hackensack last summer and another trip that far north is not on the schedule. But if it was, I tell you, I would want to stay at that Hansel and Gretel cottage. (I don’t care that it’s a private home.)

I discovered the fairy tale cottage while visiting Hackensack last summer.

Instead, I’ll be back here in southern Minnesota awaiting results of a poetry competition. You see, some time ago I submitted two poems for possible display at The Northwoods Art Festival and Book Fair in Hackensack from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. on Saturday, August 28.

Recently I learned that both my poems were selected for display and are vying, like all the chosen poems, for “Works of Merit” designation by long-time Brainerd poet Doris Stengel. The visiting public will also vote for their six favorites as “Popular Choice” award winners. As far as I know, no cash prizes are made. Rather the prize lies in peer and/or public recognition.

I would love to tell you which of the untagged poems are mine. But since I don’t want to be accused of voter fraud, illegal lobbying or some other such poetic “crime,” I have sworn myself to secrecy. I’m quite certain that revelation of my poems’ titles could lead to disqualification.

That disclaimer aside, if you’re in the Hackensack area on August 28, check out the arts festival and specifically the poetry display at the Union Congregational Church. Minnesota writers and illustrators will be at the church signing and selling their books. At 1:30 p.m., the award winners will be announced and display poets can read their poems.

But there’s more to this fest than the written word. You also will find artists who work in paint, clay, metal, wood, fiber and photography. Throw in food and music and you have a genuine Paul Bunyan-worthy Minnesota festival.

Come to think of it, perhaps I should have penned a poem about Paul Bunyan.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling

 

Poetic Strokes, Volume Four, publishes June 8, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Audrey Kletscher Helbling @ 9:41 AM
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Poetic Strokes, Volume Four, just published and on sale for $5.

FOR EVERY WRITER, publication brings a certain thrill, a validation that the words they’ve written hold meaning for a publisher, an editor, and, most importantly, for the reader.

That’s especially true for poets. In poetry, every word counts. Poets understand that. In perhaps no other writing genre is word choice so important.

Of all the writing I’ve done through the years—newspaper, magazine, essay, devotionals, greeting card verses and poetry—poetry and greeting card verse writing have proved the most challenging.

When I nail a line, and then a whole verse or an entire poem, I know it. And, apparently, editors also realize that. I’ve attained success in both publishing of my greeting card verses and my poetry.

Last week a copy of Poetic Strokes, A Regional Anthology of Poetry from Southeastern Minnesota, arrived at my house. The slim volume published by Southeastern Libraries Cooperating includes my poems, A school without a library and Saturday night baths.

Mine are the first two poems in the book. Forty-two poems were selected for publication from 280 submitted by 118 poets in Dodge, Fillmore, Freeborn, Goodhue, Houston, Mower, Olmsted, Rice, Steele, Wabasha and Winona counties.

Of the 30 poets whose poems were selected for publication, 11 of us have multiple poems in the Legacy Amendment-funded anthology.

Within the pages of this volume, you’ll find poems that speak of libraries and veterans’ memorials, of personal pain and spoiled Americans, of wind and harvest and so much more. Among my favorites are Woman of the Earth and Final Harvest by Delores Daggett and The Garden by Ronda Anderson-Sand.

It’s no secret to me why I especially like these poems. They are similar to mine—rooted to the land and vivid with descriptive words that allow me to picture the place, the people, of which the poet writes. They also touch me emotionally.

Whenever I write a poem, I immerse myself in the subject, transitioning to the place or time that is the subject of my writing. I tap into my memory bank, remembering details that appeal to the senses. In Saturday night baths, I recall the red-and-white-checked linoleum, the slippery bar of soap, the oven door tilted open for warmth. Details like that make for a good poem.

Often, I write of my childhood experiences growing up on the southwestern Minnesota prairie. Those seem to resonate with readers.

You can read my latest published poetry by checking out Poetic Strokes, Volume 4, from any SELCO library. If you’re outside the system, request an inter-library loan.

Or, consider adding this anthology to your personal collection. In Faribault, Friends of Buckham Memorial Library are selling a limited number of Poetic Strokes for $5 at the circulation desk.

#

Friends and family, if you want a copy, let me know. For $5 and shipping costs (if you need the volume mailed), I’m willing to get a book for you.

© Copyright 2010 Audrey Kletscher Helbling