Welcome back to the Daily Poem, a podcast from Goldberry Studios. I'm Sean Johnson, and today is Friday, August 23rd, 2024. Today's poem is by Emily Dickinson, and it's called Wild Nights, Wild Nights. I mentioned on yesterday's episode that whenever I read this poem, I am reminded of John Dunn's poem, A Validiction, Forbiting Morning, because of the ways in which they are juxtaposed to one another.

They make a great point and counterpoint.

And all the more so, because Dunn is remembered in his youthful poetry as a little bit of a wild and suggestive character himself, but enters into a

reserved and pious adulthood.

And then Emily Dickinson, by reverse, is often thought of as very reserved and private.

And yet in this poem, not exclusively in this poem, but particularly in this poem,

we see a very enthused and very unreserved Emily Dickinson, or here rather.

So, without further ado, here is wild nights, wild nights. I'll read it once, offer a few comments,

and then read it one more time. Wild nights, wild nights, where I with the wild night should be

our luxury. Futile, the winds to a heart and port, done with the compass, done with the chart,

rowing in Eden. Ah, the sea, might I but more tonight in thee.

This is a very quick, very energetic poem.

It also seems to be a poem sparked by separation.

In the second line, we have that counterfactual, were I,

this kind of hypothetical, subjunctive, if it were the case that I was

with you, but I'm not. Were I with the wild knights should be our luxury. The implication there

is also luxury's opposite. If we are living by meager means and can afford a few or no

luxuries, that's when we would make a statement like this. We would make a luxury of this. Wild nights.

And then we get perhaps a suggestion of the source of the separation very much

like in dunn's own poem there is a sea voyage in mind futile the winds to a heart in port done with

the compass done with the chart so there is a kind of there there's a sailing going on. Wherever we are, we are,

one of us is storm tossed, maybe both of us literally or figuratively. But together, we could be

...