From the Railing of a Country Bridge
Mist fills the air above Rabbit River.
The fields are plowed, seed-ready, opening
themselves to the arms of thickening clouds.
Before this land was tended, prairie grasses
shimmied in the heat of endless summer,
bowed to buffalo who ventured this far.
Back then life fed on sunlight - on the chirps
and low whistles of the night, on the grunts
of meadow beasts and the breathless expanse
that the heart of winter makes of all of this.
My car windows start to fog. Truck tracks
in the sopped field roads fill with despair.
I see in the distance a grain truck making
its way up the wet pavement toward market.
Hi Teagan,
Nice to be reading you again. Here are some comments for your consideration. I tend to overdo with the amount of words, but I'm going for clarity so I still will try to keep this mild in tone if not in quantity.
Here are my overall thoughts before I give line comments. This has a James Wright sort of feel to me in its observations of nature, and while there are parts that I may stylistically take issue with, their mostly personal choices. I think the main challenge you have with this one is taking something that is pretty good and giving it the emotional punch it needs to elevate it to something much better.
(05-13-2016, 01:19 AM)Teagan Wrote: [ -> ] From the Railing of a Country Bridge--The title does a good job establishing the setting.
Mist fills the air above Rabbit River.--First lines are important. For me this is about a 6 as far as first lines go. I like the straight forward observation of it and the specific detail of the Rabbit River. I'm not sure it sets up your close well enough so you may want to give that some thought. More on that a bit later.
The fields are plowed, seed ready, opening--I like seed ready and the break on opening.
themselves to the arms of thickening clouds.--The personification and the sense of embrace leading to life is very nice. So from this, I may think that the speaker sees the promise of something new, some new course or path and is reflecting that through their observation.
Before this land was tended, prairie grasses--Before this is a real key to understanding. We're getting a contrast between tended and natural. The conflict when something is tamed. What is gained? What is lost?
shimmied in the heat of endless summer,--nice image with motion endless summer is a bit cliche. Possibly forever summer or giving the sense of stretching days somehow.
bowed to buffalo who ventured this far.--Also a lovely image, and a sense of geographic placement.
Back then life fed on sunlight - on the chirps--Back then another looking back key which implies that the speaker is also looking back. I like the first phrase here and the introduction of these sounds. On a broader note the pleasure of this poem is mostly found in the sonic devices you employ.
and low whistles of the night, on the grunts
of meadow beasts and the breathless expanse
that the heart of winter makes of all of this.--Extra space before winter (minor typo). Heart of winter is also possibly a bit cliche--not as much as endless summer above but something to think about.
My car windows start to fog. Truck tracks --The car windows fogging make it seem like a type of crying. Also, maybe a blurring of the past and a snapping back to reality. You also get that sense from the truck tracks.
in the sopped field roads fill with despair.--love the sopped field roads but not the fill with despair. It feels tacked on and not earned. I think this fill with despair idea is what you need to draw out and go deeper with.
I see in the distance a grain truck making
its way up the wet pavement toward market.--The grain truck gives a slight closure as it is the promise of the S1 field, but it isn't quite delivering the payoff for me.
This is atmospheric and lovely. I just want it to push me more emotionally near the end. I like that it is subtle and restrained so I'm not calling for over the top just a bit of a nudge.
I hope some of that makes sense and helps.
Best,
Todd
(05-13-2016, 01:19 AM)Teagan Wrote: [ -> ] From the Railing of a Country Bridge
Mist fills the air above Rabbit River.
The fields are plowed, seed-ready, opening Is this a deliberate misspelling of ploughed? The "opening themselves" part almost make me question this 
I know this is also plough. But where I'm from this spelling has a different meaning.
themselves to the arms of thickening clouds. Nice opening stanza. The thickening cloud part really sets the mood.
Before this land was tended, prairie grasses
shimmied in the heat of endless summer,
bowed to buffalo who ventured this far.
Back then life fed on sunlight - on the chirps
and low whistles of the night, on the grunts
of meadow beasts and the breathless expanse
that the heart of winter makes of all of this. Wow, life was a hungry bugger "back then" feeding on sunlight, winter, chirps, grunts. Nom nom nom. 
No, I get that is a change in mood.
My car windows start to fog. Truck tracks
in the sopped field roads fill with despair.
I see in the distance a grain truck making
its way up the wet pavement toward market. Yeah, nice ending, gives a feel of the subjects mood as they sit in this familiar place full of memories soaked in their own despair.
Not much to critique here. I liked the pace and mood. It didn't blow me away or drag me in but was a nice read. Thanks for the read, sorry I wasn't of much use.
(05-13-2016, 01:19 AM)Teagan Wrote: [ -> ] From the Railing of a Country Bridge
Mist fills the air above Rabbit River.
The fields are plowed, seed-ready, opening
themselves to the arms of thickening clouds.
Before this land was tended, prairie grasses
shimmied in the heat of endless summer,
bowed to buffalo who ventured this far.
Back then life fed on sunlight - on the chirps
and low whistles of the night, on the grunts
of meadow beasts and the breathless expanse
that the heart of winter makes of all of this.
My car windows start to fog. Truck tracks
in the sopped field roads fill with despair.
I see in the distance a grain truck making
its way up the wet pavement toward market.
Teagan,
This is some really odd diction. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it. Without marking the scansion, it feels very stop-and-go, rather jerky --a tongue twister.
I think this jerky diction fits best on "in the sopped field roads fill with despair." I'm really bouncing around on that line. This may push the boundaries of "mild critique," but I'm going to scan a few lines.
_ _ / / / / _ _ /
in the sopped field roads fill with despair
This is Anapestic trimeter, but the middle foot is all stressed. I think this is really a brilliant marriage of diction and imagery, where without showing it (there are only tracks, no actual truck), we feel the truck bouncing through ruts in the field. The downside is that I almost miss the "despair" at the end, because the music of the line is so bouncy, and I'm thinking of the truck. I initially hear "fields," but the plurality lands on "roads," which takes me out of my own rhythms. I stop and re-read, surprised at the feel of the line.
I like to be surprised by this sort of thing, but only here and there, and not as a consistent tripping through the meter of the poem.
/ _ _ / _ / / _ / _
Mist fills the air above Rabbit River
Here we're switching awkwardly between Trochaic and Iambic Pentameter. This creates a musical emphasis on "Rabbit River," perhaps too much emphasis. Now usually I don't comment much on the actual scansion of lines, but almost every line (to my ear) has a musical break, and I needed to "break it down" a little to figure it out. For my money, the meter feels too awkward for too long, I'd back off a little. Maybe give the scenes from the past a more fluid diction.
Aside from the crazy meter of the poem, there's not much which cuts against the serenity of the field (back then). Both present and past feel somewhat calm to us. I think the meter gives you some energy on that front, but the comparison feels a little soft. I'd take a poetic license to have modernity intrude more rudely into the field.
Cheers for making me scan... ;-)
Loved the first two lines.
Not so much:
Adjectives: Breathless, endless
Hyperbole: isn't Rabbit River in Michigan? Wikipedia. It's anything but endless summer there come winter! Unless the endless summer was a metaphor, not to be taken literally....which again weakens the metaphor. Unless this is a different Rabbit River.
If Michigan, didn't get the point about buffalo venturing this far. Didn't they sort of venture much further anyway?
Meadow beasts for Buffaloes again? Meadow beasts sounds almost comically Miltonic to me. Maybe it's just me.
Life still feeds on sunlight
Filled with despair?
Th contrast isn't so vivid. The grunts of meadow beasts and the sleepy lives of Midwestern farmers. Not so terrible the second. If it is, the poem doesn't ring it out.
Pardon the typos. Phone typing.
Todd --
I can’t tell you how helpful your comments are. Definitely endless summer and heart of winter need to be bagged and replaced. As I look at them now, they do seem as worn as a forty-year-old couch.
Your central points are much appreciated and I see how the emotional heft of this is lighter than it should be. You have pinpointed where the work needs to be done, and overall what I need to do is to draw tighter the connection with the human emotions, which I see are currently left too far in the background. The last stanza needs serious work, the appearance of the grain truck needs to be set up much better or replaced. If the ending is fixed, the first line should be clearer as well - I like that you have made me cognizant of how these play together.
Thanks for your time and energy with this poem, and for your wonderful insights. I have to say I was tickled by your mention of James Wright, one of my favorite poets.
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Jae -
Thanks for your reading of this. Plow is the uniform North American spelling for the farm implement which turns the soil, and for the verb form as well. I heard on the Writer’s Almanac a while ago that the spelling in America was changed from plough to plow by Noah Webster in the spelling book he published in 1828, and which over the years sold more than 60 million copies. [Sidetracked]. I agree the poem lacks some oomph. So that’s part of the next revision. I appreciate your comments.
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underthewronghat -
Cheers - hell. My apologies for your feeling compelled to scan. By way of explanation or confession - I wrote this to a simple meter of 10 syllables per line. I was not attempting or intending accentual meter, not pentameter. I think we have our own internal metronomes, senses of cadence, and breath sequence rhythms. I found that I can read my own 10-syllable lines with ease, certainly with more ease than that with which I can write pentameter. It does strike some as odd or difficult and I sympathize with you. If you are able to read it without thinking of pattern accentual rhythm, does it then work better for you? I’m not saying it should, but for some I think it does. I would love to be able to write consistent blank verse, but I can’t avoid sliding into the use of contorted language. Maybe I learn those tools of how to do it right here. Thanks so much for engaging on this.
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Achebe -
There is a Rabbit River in Michigan and two in Minnesota. This poem references the Rabbit River which winds its way 30+ miles through West Central Minnesota into the Bois de Sioux River which forms the boundary with the Dakotas. I would suppose that many of the geographical details don’t fit with Michigan – the buffalo especially. This setting is the edge of the Great Plains, and plains culture.
I agree with your lack of enthusiasm for breathless and endless. I think there are several other flat tires as well.
Meadow beasts - is intended to include a mix of bison, elk, deer, antelope, prong horn, bobcats, fox, badgers.
I was not trying to reference “ sleepy lives of Midwestern farmers” if there is such a thing, so I do need to look at making the text much more clear. And, as you say, more vivid.
Thanks for your feedback. Coupled with the others, I think I have a good idea where to go with this.
Teagan
Not crit, just two comments-- first, you really took me to my parent's old acreage in South Dakota there. Second, the issues I had were brought up by others, therefore very much looking forward to the edit!
(05-14-2016, 07:56 AM)justcloudy Wrote: [ -> ]Not crit, just two comments-- first, you really took me to my parent's old acreage in South Dakota there. Second, the issues I had were brought up by others, therefore very much looking forward to the edit!
I've got relatives spread out across South Dakota, on both sides of the sod.
Thanks for reading and commenting.
more is expected/mod -- So even in the "Mild Critique" forum I can't just make a positive comment?
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I just want to say how wonderful it is to read a poem which is clear and written in properly formed sentences. That seems to be a dying art these days.
@Teagan - not to split hairs, but perhaps 'grunts' is not right if
Meadow beasts - is intended to include a mix of bison, elk, deer, antelope, prong horn, bobcats, fox, badgers.