An engaging idea (made me think) and well expressed (but is there a single word for "thin layer?") I disagree philosophically, or something (psychologically?) - grief can indeed be worked through, but the work-through also wears thin at times, and the ghosts return. Not as absences, but as beloved but unwanted presences.
Thanks, duke. It would be good to have a single word for thin layer in this instance - not sure what that'd be. In this instance, patina etc are not what I had in mind.
There is a bit of a tangential allusion that might not be apparent (not that I wanted it to be), so have added a link. It's up to the reader to interpret the allusion as fit.
Two thoughts, busker:
Why is the poem a continuation of the title? Haven't seen it before in prose or poetry. Otherwise standing alone beginning with
Is makes it grammatically nonsensical.
Secondly, one word for 'thin layer' could be
smear or
film?
Cheers.
(02-03-2021, 12:14 AM)John Wrote: [ -> ]Two thoughts, busker:
Why is the poem a continuation of the title? Haven't seen it before in prose or poetry. Otherwise standing alone beginning with Is makes it grammatically nonsensical.
Secondly, one word for 'thin layer' could be smear or film?
Cheers.
Hi John - much as I’d like to have been the first, writers have been playing around with all parts of a poem including the title, for some time now. Joseph Stroud’s poem ‘And I raised my hand to him in return’ is an example of where the title could be a legitimate continuation of the last line in the poem. It’s not what I’ve done here, it’s far more clever than that.
On the second point -the specific thickness I had in mind was from a few mm to a couple of inches (the link explains it) but thanks for your suggestions.
Hey busker-
The deepest grief
Is like a thin layer of clay -
one side footprints
the other smooth as glass.
I like that the title is also the first line of the poem.
This is a tough subject for a short form poem.
I immediately thought of grief as a kind of shell (having experienced grief on several occasions).
Being me, I would shorten this one even more:
has one side soft as clay (malleable)
the other hard as glass (fragile)
The simile in the first line became a bit confusing for me when the second line introduced footprints.
Once again, grief is a tough subject to address is such a short form. Hope not outta line with my suggestions...
/// Mark