december acknowledges with sadness the passing of Vern Rutsala in April. Referred to as “the gentle giant of Oregon poetry” and author of more than a dozen books, Vern Rutsala was poetry editor of december for four issues, and his own poetry appeared in Vols. 3, 4, 7, 9, 11, and 24.

Many of december’s advisory editors went way back with Vern Rutsala — some to their time attending the Iowa Writers’ Workshop together — and have written poems in tribute to Rutsala’s life. Following are a couple of them.

Bell-tribute-to-Rutsala

DEJA-VU

On four lines by Vern Rutsala

The evening is carved of light.

One has watched here before, the view

of this bracken-edged meadow, the heather

lofting plumes into dusklight out of shadows.

One wonders what he has sought

in the meadows of deja-vu,

and on what occasions he has weathered

these asides of recall — and were there others?

For here an uncertain sleight

of sunlight settles itself like vows —

in the broken fields of sons and fathers —

taken, broken, retaken. Darkness stammers,

the linnet has gone to flight;

hours have fallen to clay review

and have sprung again. Out of ashen feathers

ancient summer uncovers ancient summers.

The evening is carved of light.

In the meadows of deja-vu,

in the broken fields of sons and fathers,

ancient summer uncovers ancient summers.

by Lewis Turco