GREENFIELD – “A river fine and fair must always move/Until it meets the sea and this its end/But rivers never die, and this shall prove/ The River Green to be a lasting friend,” wrote Nathan Provost, 18, the first-place winner of New England Outdoor Writers Association Young Writing Winners of 2018.
Provost won the Massachusetts senior category with “Ode to the Green River.” He said he spends about three hours a day writing poetry. He began writing in ninth grade, and it “really picked up” when he was a junior and bought a moleskin journal.
“I like writing verse, because it’s an explicit way of conveying a point,” Provost said.
His winning poem touches on the beauty and pollution on the Green River. He said he was in the process of writing the poem when he heard about the contest from his grandfather, and he decided to submit. He said he was inspired by his own experiences along the Green, Deerfield and Connecticut rivers.
“A set of my friends live along the Green River, and we used to hang out along the banks of the river and walk around the woods near the river,” Provost said. “I’ve had a lot of the experiences from when I was younger. In the poem, you can see contrast between my youth and now, as well as the importance of preserving the Green River.”
Provost said when he was younger, he participated in the Green River clean-up in eighth grade, and was surprised by the pollution in the river.
“It’s reprehensible, because despite the fact we pulled a lot of trash out, there is still some left,” Provost said. “I live next to a wetland, and there is a brook that runs through it — I don’t know where it goes, but the whole area, it’s polluted.”
He said he drew from those experiences to use the poem “to make a comment on the pollution of the river and draw attention to its not as clean as it could be.”
Provost said his father is an environmental police officer, game warden and hunter, “so there is a strong respect for the environment in our family.”
“My father was excited (when I won.) He thought it was great,” Provost said. “He’s well-read and appreciates literature/English language arts.”
Other elements of the poem are influenced by poets such as Samuel Taylor Coleridge, T.S. Elliot and W.B. Yeats.
Provost said he was also inspired by “Elegy written in a country churchyard” by Thomas Gray, which he said is a “meditation on existence in a pastoral form.”
“My poem tries to have the same feel and uses the same meter/rhyme scheme,” Provost said. “I like Modernist themes with the structural style of Victorian era poetry.”
Provost is a senior at Greenfield High School, and is interested in going to college for mathematics and philosophy.
“I like the balance of learning and understanding everything, no matter the subject,” Provost said. “Everything is in pursuit of the truth.”
The rain so gently fills the river high,
The growing grasses flourish on the banks
Where foliage and fauna calmly lie
And ancient bullfrogs sing their haughty thanks.
Beside the trees that line the river’s side,
Oft shaken by the lowly winds that blow,
The swimming trout between the shores abide
Whilst drafting through the currents down below.
A town upon the river’s banks was formed,
And in this settlement my life began;
And thought it flooded when the heavens stormed,
The river’s presence fueled the flames of Man.
Upon its humble shores, I often cast
My fishing rod into its shallow pools
In hopes of catching fish that have surpassed
The gated northern dam from which Man rules.
Indeed, that river flows with charm and glee,
Unlike the River Alph in Xanadu;
It does not flow into a sunless sea,
But rather drifts into the ocean blue.
Its majesty transcends the minds of those
Who carelessly discards their filthy waste
Into its rapids; oft without repose
A plastic navy storms the banks with haste.
Lamentably, the town upon its shores
Neglects the health of that which brought it fame.
No matter whom that noble stream implores,
My town will simply not accept its blame.
Fret not! For on the banks there stands a man
Who serves the river as his wizened king;
Attentively, he executes his Plan
Of Progress whilst the graceful songbirds sing.
It pleases me to see the river fat
With energy and ever-burning light.
As Thomas Gray within his churchyard sat,
Beside the river commonly I write.
The Earth is plagued by many weeping scars
Created by the hateful whip of Man,
And yet, beneath the shining of the stars,
The river whispers to us all: “You can.”
“You can preserve my flowing majesty,
You can uphold the soil’s holy law
And save my visage for the young to see,
So that one day they all shall say: ‘I saw.’”
“‘I saw the force that moves the water so,
I saw the path oft taken by the shad,
I felt the power of the river glow
Within my soul, though I am but a lad.’”
A river fine and fair must always move,
Until it meets the sea and thus its end,
But rivers never die, and this shall prove
The River Green to be a lasting friend.
The glory of this land is plain to see
When viewed by such a pleasant learned eye;
And yet, the greatest joy is then to be
The staring scintillating midnight sky.
The sky is fortunate to always look
Upon the river with his endless eyes.
This beauty, never captured in a book,
Within this vibrant river plainly lies.
I think the river for its boundless grace,
The likes of which eludes the common man;
I kneel in awe before its noble face,
The place where humble Greenfield’s reign began.