When I was a young teenager, I loved poetry. Like most teenage girls of my vintage I adored Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Rod McKuen. Like minded girls were also enjoying Sara Teasdale and Elizabeth Bishop...back in the day, as they say. I can't imagine what we were playing at during our Teasdale phase.
Anyway, my interest in poetry was noted by the teachers at my new high school and I was invited to attend a program that had been previously reserved for juniors and seniors who were taking the Honors courses. Ann Arbor poet and future poet Laureate, Donald Hall, was coming to our school to do a brief reading and take some questions about poetry, academia and writing in general.
In all honesty, this 14 year old girl of 1971 had never heard of the man. I was flattered to be invited and more than a bit intimidated by the situation as juniors and seniors seemed so far above me. Imagine.
For his reading, Professor Hall chose the poem The Alligator Bride, which is even now a bit of a mystery to me, but was dark and undecipherable in 1971. Yet, I applauded with the rest of the group who seemed more sophisticated than ever. How did they understand this poem and what did they get out of it? Had the good sisters of the English department prepared and coached them or were they, like me, too afraid of being called out as a dummy not to applaud and act elated by the reading.
To his credit, the reading was dramatic and Hall's voice stayed with me as did his reptilian lady in white. As a 14 year old, I imagined a real alligator or a vicious, snappish female. Later I saw it as an almost psychotic image, a imagined companion and perhaps an ex-wife. When, my nephew went to University of Florida, gator brides took on an entirely new meaning as I imagined a sharp, chic sorority girl cutting her significant teeth on the heart of the poet. In this incarnation, I even imagined a wedding cake complete with gator bride in a dress, veil and pearls. Who knows.
Lately someone on etsy, explained the poem as a writing about a depressed individual who could see despair in a cat and a bag of spilled groceries and who was contemplating at least a spiritual death.
I still can't imagine 14 year olds with the capacity to figure this out. I still think about Professor Hall and this reading. Funny how some things stay with you always.