The Poetry of a… Rug?

Did you know I’m the President of the Tucson Poetry Society? I got this job through my rhyming picture books and my willingness to say yes when asked if I’d be the Vice President. I’ve been delighted at how this branch of the ASPS has grown. 

However, I confess, I don’t really know much about poetry. I write my rhymes for my books. Very rarely do I write free verse or other forms of poetry. I do enjoy those works created by the very talented members of the TPS. And I am expanding my poetic endeavors, all thanks to the Tucson Poetry Society and a rug…. yes, a rug. Let me explain. 

Ekphrastic Poetry

I had never heard the term ekphrastic poetry before I attended TPS meetings. Ekphrastic poetry is defined as poems written about works of art. Several TPS poets wrote about paintings and sculptures. They were very moving but you had to be familiar, or at least acquainted, with the artwork being described.

A local group of TPS and ASPS poets has started the TAPS program. TAPS is the Tucson Arts Poetry Series. Each month, a couple of published poets read their works, but one of their first events involved having the attendees write about any of the artwork displayed at the Tucson Desert Art Museum.

Poets were allowed to examine the paintings and other artifacts to find one that would inspire a poem. I confess, I found a bunch of items that stirred my muse. Ten poems would be selected to be displayed with the artwork that inspired them. Spoiler alert: my poem wasn’t selected, but I wasn’t surprised.

The Rug in Question

The artwork that grabbed my attention was a Navajo rug hung on one of the museum’s walls. The patterns of the Navajo rug displayed are very similar to the rug in front of the fireplace that I grew up with. The colors are the same. It instantly took me home to our beloved and well-used fireplace. I remember how the sparks would land on the rug, then fizzle out, unable to set fire to the rug. I was always amazed at how the rug wouldn’t ignite, protecting the house from errant sparks. A truly wonderful and amazing feat.

When my parents sold the family home, I hoped to receive the rug. I was living in Michigan at the time and had my own wood-burning fireplace. I needed the rug to protect my first personal house as it had protected my childhood house. I was comforted by its presence.

My parents had bought the rug on a trip to the Navajo reservation. It had been pointed out to them that there was a one-strand “error” in the rug. The error allowed the rug’s spirit to escape and not be trapped in the rug. I looked at the museum’s rug, wanting to find the error that freed the rug’s spirit. I couldn’t find it but hoped that it was just my poor observational abilities. I hated to think of the rug’s spirit being trapped. 

Fire Rug

Storm Pattern Plate XVIII

J.B. Moore

This is the poem I wrote: 

Our Navajo rug covered our fireplace hearth

repelling sparks’ ignition 

with tightly woven wool

protecting our home

gathering us around welcoming flames

drawing us together in the warmth

safely on the rug

The museum Navajo rug hangs on the wall

bigger, brighter, “finished” at the edges

red and black figures on a gray background

sufficiently similar to rekindle memories

though beautiful

the museum rug only covers a wall

offering no protection from fire

admired but unpurposed untreasured

I did feel sorry for the museum rug. It won’t stir up the pleasant memories that my family’s rug did. I do admire the artistry of the rug but do pity it. It’s merely a piece of art, not an important element of people’s lives.