|View single post by J Brian Long|
|Posted: Wed Sep 19th, 2007 10:36 am||
J Brian Long
The first two strophes are a (different, almost complete) poem, altogether:
the geese are in the empty fairground field.
contemplating the tether of their instinct.
the wind has died. even the leaves
seem to know when to drop to a cold ground.
without you this evening, the drapes
sweep the floor through the south
open window. i step the floor
back and forth. wondering.
What pulled me into your poem are the images you employ, particularly
the empty fairground field and the drapes sweeping the floor at the
south open window. The drapes really got me; I could watch that for
a long time; a month ago the wife, kids, and I visited the Biltmore Estate,
and all the windows were open to the summer, their long, white drapes
ghosting the sills --I was transported by your poem back to that for a
moment; thank you.
The poem explains a lot (especially at the end), and I have been told that
it is often better to show than to tell (not that I have always listened). Just
Have a blessed day!
--J Brian Long