In April when the trees began to leaf
and bulbs erupted into bloom,
as garden plans conspired
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June’s congested traffic clogged the road;
our overloaded trail coerced
repeated shifting gears,
a u-turn in a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
canoes and kayaks stowed away,
a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost,
our tires chained to slow the skid
that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet (edit 3) (Magpie, milo, John B, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
clandestine bulbs erupted into bloom
and garden plans conspired to coalesce;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June’s congested traffic clogged the road,
contracting an already narrow trail;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boat rack stacked, canoes and kayaks stowed..
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost,
its snow tires tightly wrapped in chains to slow
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet (edit 2) (John B, milo, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June swept in and filled in every gap,
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped.
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
In April when the trees begin to leaf the year-round denizens emerge to greet each other, waking up to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze. Very charming iambic tetrameter...'SWEATered SUNlit BREEZE'. Alliteration pairings of 'bask'/'breeze' and 'sweatered'/'sunlit' work like a treat.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog the road, no room to turn around; in many moves a car can just about reverse its route to flee.
The meter in L3 and 4 is just fantastic - your alliteration pairings also complement this rhythm: "many moves" and "reverse/route". I think the reason I am so drawn to it is because it reminds me of... "For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being// Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door." The monosyllabics, the rhythm, the alliteration are all very resonant of your own lines.
I personally read it aloud like this, all in one consistent tempo: "in MANy MOVES a CAR can JUST aBOUT reVERSE its ROUTE to FLEE." September comes, the hubbub dims except for weekend warriors anticipating blazing views of mountain forests poised for sleep.
I am trying to wrap my head around this stanza - trying to work out the significance behind the weekend warriors and their obsession with the views. I have a few competing interpretations but I'll get them down on paper once I flesh it out. Now Winter slowing to a stop, I was wondering whether present simple sound better here... "Now Winter slows to a stop," but I actually think "slowing" helps to drag the line longer, reminiscent of Winter's own tedious drag.
its tires clad in chains for grip I quite like this image of Winter as a vehicle, mechanical and robust - the harsh-sounding "grip" is well-placed at the end. Also an interesting callback to your cars in June. demands an effort unfulfilled to slide its way to anywhere.
To me, this poem is written by a narrator who is observant, but also somewhat critical.
On a surface level, it is about the cyclical nature of all 4 seasons (the 'year-round denizens' at the beginning was also evocative of this), and the vehicle motif is sustained throughout - unrestrained it drives along senselessly, no destination, as it does each year. There is also however to me, a kind of tension/interaction/relationship between the narrator, tourists/citizens and nature generally - almost a resentment... "neighbours clog" and "weekend warriors" gave life to that idea for me. Almost as if the N finds it stifling and wants... an outlet
But I am still trying to wrap my head around it - it gives me something to dwell on tonight when I should (really) be doing my class prep.
In April when the trees begin to leaf the year-round denizens emerge to greet each other, waking up to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze. Very charming iambic tetrameter...'SWEATered SUNlit BREEZE'. Alliteration pairings of 'bask'/'breeze' and 'sweatered'/'sunlit' work like a treat.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog the road, no room to turn around; in many moves a car can just about reverse its route to flee.
The meter in L3 and 4 is just fantastic - your alliteration pairings also complement this rhythm: "many moves" and "reverse/route". I think the reason I am so drawn to it is because it reminds me of... "For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being// Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door." The monosyllabics, the rhythm, the alliteration are all very resonant of your own lines.
I personally read it aloud like this, all in one consistent tempo: "in MANy MOVES a CAR can JUST aBOUT reVERSE its ROUTE to FLEE." September comes, the hubbub dims except for weekend warriors anticipating blazing views of mountain forests poised for sleep.
I am trying to wrap my head around this stanza - trying to work out the significance behind the weekend warriors and their obsession with the views. I have a few competing interpretations but I'll get them down on paper once I flesh it out. Now Winter slowing to a stop, I was wondering whether present simple sound better here... "Now Winter slows to a stop," but I actually think "slowing" helps to drag the line longer, reminiscent of Winter's own tedious drag.
its tires clad in chains for grip I quite like this image of Winter as a vehicle, mechanical and robust - the harsh-sounding "grip" is well-placed at the end. Also an interesting callback to your cars in June. demands an effort unfulfilled to slide its way to anywhere.
To me, this poem is written by a narrator who is observant, but also somewhat critical.
On a surface level, it is about the cyclical nature of all 4 seasons (the 'year-round denizens' at the beginning was also evocative of this), and the vehicle motif is sustained throughout - unrestrained it drives along senselessly, no destination, as it does each year. There is also however to me, a kind of tension/interaction/relationship between the narrator, tourists/citizens and nature generally - almost a resentment... "neighbours clog" and "weekend warriors" gave life to that idea for me. Almost as if the N finds it stifling and wants... an outlet
But I am still trying to wrap my head around it - it gives me something to dwell on tonight when I should (really) be doing my class prep.
Hi, P, I so appreciate your detailed read and comments. I'm happy to have a reader enjoying the alliteration. I try, often unsuccessfully, to rein it in but I just love all those slippery sounds. There are a few things I'm worried about with this one, I'll surely keep your notes in mind when I edit.
In April when the trees begin to leaf the year-round denizens emerge to greet each other, waking up to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog the road, no room to turn around; in many moves a car can just about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims except for weekend warriors anticipating blazing views of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop, its tires clad in chains for grip demands an effort unfulfilled to slide its way to anywhere.
Hello, Wasellajam. This poem is a pleasing observation on the stages by which beauty spots get crowded in summer then grow quiet in winter.
I think the nuts and bolts are there but that it could do with some reflection on the structure.
The title makes getting out of the viewing area central to the poem and it may link with your approach to S4.
The framework is: S1: April arrives and attracts new sightseers S2: June arrives and it gets so crowded it’s hard to get out of the congestion S3: September comes and attendance dwindles to a few die-hards S4: Winter arrives and we come back to the S2 idea of some form of escape.
I think you could revise S4, and maybe the title too, to complete the thought more cohesively. In each of S1-3, you set a time and describe events at the viewpoint at that time. They progress nicely until winter comes. Now we veer from the tourists to reifying winter, giving it a wish to escape, and thwarting it with slipperiness. For me, the poem goes off-track there.
If you follow the S1-3 progression, you’ll likely have an empty scene in winter, without the current S4 elements. I’m sure you could describe this very nicely. In S3, your descriptions of the fall views are beautiful. Alternatively, you could tie a revised S4 back to the tourists in several ways, e.g. they couldn't return now even if they wanted to (with possible irony--they couldn't get out in summer and now they can't get in).
Here are a few minor comments: In S1L2, “year-round” is inconsistent with the denizens disappearing for half the year. In S2L3, changing “to” to “and” at the start of the line would avoid the extended “emerge to…., waking up to…” construction. In S1L4, it’s the denizens who are “sweatered”, not the breeze. In S2 L3 and L4, “its route” and the enjambment might be bettered.
In April when the trees begin to leaf the year-round denizens emerge to greet each other, waking up to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog the road, no room to turn around; in many moves a car can just about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims except for weekend warriors anticipating blazing views of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop, its tires clad in chains for grip demands an effort unfulfilled to slide its way to anywhere.
Hello, Wasellajam. This poem is a pleasing observation on the stages by which beauty spots get crowded in summer then grow quiet in winter.
I think the nuts and bolts are there but that it could do with some reflection on the structure.
The title makes getting out of the viewing area central to the poem and it may link with your approach to S4.
The framework is: S1: April arrives and attracts new sightseers S2: June arrives and it gets so crowded it’s hard to get out of the congestion S3: September comes and attendance dwindles to a few die-hards S4: Winter arrives and we come back to the S2 idea of some form of escape.
I think you could revise S4, and maybe the title too, to complete the thought more cohesively. In each of S1-3, you set a time and describe events at the viewpoint at that time. They progress nicely until winter comes. Now we veer from the tourists to reifying winter, giving it a wish to escape, and thwarting it with slipperiness. For me, the poem goes off-track there.
If you follow the S1-3 progression, you’ll likely have an empty scene in winter, without the current S4 elements. I’m sure you could describe this very nicely. In S3, your descriptions of the fall views are beautiful. Alternatively, you could tie a revised S4 back to the tourists in several ways, e.g. they couldn't return now even if they wanted to (with possible irony--they couldn't get out in summer and now they can't get in).
Here are a few minor comments: In S1L2, “year-round” is inconsistent with the denizens disappearing for half the year. In S2L3, changing “to” to “and” at the start of the line would avoid the extended “emerge to…., waking up to…” construction. In S1L4, it’s the denizens who are “sweatered”, not the breeze. In S2 L3 and L4, “its route” and the enjambment might be bettered.
I really like S3.
All the best with this,
John
Hi, John! Thanks for taking your time with this one. The tweaks will all be workable, the problem is I do have a metaphor in mind that doesn't seem to have made it to the poem. This is not unusual for me on the first swing, I'll figure it out. Your comments give me something to take into an edit, much appreciated.
Hello ella. I have read now the original and the revision with some interest. Unfortunately, I fear I may be about to give feedback that no poet wants to hear . . .
(03-05-2026, 03:08 AM)wasellajam Wrote: No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
and it starts here - ok, I preferred the earlier version. I enjoyed leaf as a verb as well as sweatered sunlit breeeze. But more than that (and it is already substantial) there was a whimsical, luxury-of-time feel to the first version. More of a "promise" of things to come but a patience with the promise. This version feels more insistent. It almost has an Eliot feel of spring forcing the roots from the earth rather than a casual theatrical cast in the dramam of the seasons which, unless I am competely off here, felt important to your metaphor. We are cast members in this diorama of the seasons is what I got from the first, in this I feel the insistences of the season. Particularly, we are not awaking, we are emerging, we don't bask, we give.
Quote:Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
I feel like "comes" is the wrong word here - whether considering the more Frost-like denizens of the season or Eliot-like victims of the season. Weekend warriors is for sure a cliche. "visit", as well, is weak. "blazing" seems wrong for the opposite reason. I guess, visitors seeking an imagined glory of the seasons can be accurately conveyed using it, I just don't know if the support is here. Much of this is the same as the earlier version. Honestly, I am not sure about much of this and I am reluctant to say anything
Quote:Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
I think "now" is important here - it makes me think in the beginning it should have been "began", "emerged", etc. no? The tense confusion, for me, doesn't help. And the passive voice on "slowing", once again, it muddles your message. I didn't mention it in the previous S but, "flee" to me, felt to point right at your central metaphor - the perceived (maybe false anticipation) of the visitors contrasted sharply with the residents who live in a spot others would wish to visit because casual beauty is contrasted by daily inconvenience (mundanity?)
I don't know, I do enjoy the poem and I know I pointed to a lot, but I feel it is more muddled now that earlier.
Thanks
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
(03-12-2026, 09:23 AM)milo Wrote: Hello ella. I have read now the original and the revision with some interest. Unfortunately, I fear I may be about to give feedback that no poet wants to hear . . .
(03-05-2026, 03:08 AM)wasellajam Wrote: No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
and it starts here - ok, I preferred the earlier version. I enjoyed leaf as a verb as well as sweatered sunlit breeeze. But more than that (and it is already substantial) there was a whimsical, luxury-of-time feel to the first version. More of a "promise" of things to come but a patience with the promise. This version feels more insistent. It almost has an Eliot feel of spring forcing the roots from the earth rather than a casual theatrical cast in the dramam of the seasons which, unless I am competely off here, felt important to your metaphor. We are cast members in this diorama of the seasons is what I got from the first, in this I feel the insistences of the season. Particularly, we are not awaking, we are emerging, we don't bask, we give.
Quote:Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
I feel like "comes" is the wrong word here - whether considering the more Frost-like denizens of the season or Eliot-like victims of the season. Weekend warriors is for sure a cliche. "visit", as well, is weak. "blazing" seems wrong for the opposite reason. I guess, visitors seeking an imagined glory of the seasons can be accurately conveyed using it, I just don't know if the support is here. Much of this is the same as the earlier version. Honestly, I am not sure about much of this and I am reluctant to say anything
Quote:Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
I think "now" is important here - it makes me think in the beginning it should have been "began", "emerged", etc. no? The tense confusion, for me, doesn't help. And the passive voice on "slowing", once again, it muddles your message. I didn't mention it in the previous S but, "flee" to me, felt to point right at your central metaphor - the perceived (maybe false anticipation) of the visitors contrasted sharply with the residents who live in a spot others would wish to visit because casual beauty is contrasted by daily inconvenience (mundanity?)
I don't know, I do enjoy the poem and I know I pointed to a lot, but I feel it is more muddled now that earlier.
Thanks
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
[/quote]
Thanks for stopping in, milo. I hear you, not the first time my attempt to bring a metaphor to light sucked a weak poem dry. It really isn't about what everyone is getting, I've detailed myself into a hole and yes, I am that confused. I'll have to decide if I care enough to fix it or save a few of the sweet bits for something else.
I never mind when someone points out that a poem sucks, not the first, won't be the last. I appreciate you explaining your read to me, I'm sure there's something to be learned from it, if only from examining how the edit screwed it.
Hi Ella, I like the new version,the change in tense for the first three stanzas works well, the poem reads smoother as a whole now. I've left some notes below.
In April when the trees began to leaf -- I liked this line from the first version, glad to see it back. I was confused why it was iambic pentameter and the rest of the poem was iambic tetrameter. But now it's back and the whole poem is iambic pentameter which I think helps
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away; -- I like 'daze of hibernation' but I suspect that it's probably been used before, so some might see it as cliché -- I'm not one of them though
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze. -- excellent sonics here
Then June swept in and filled in every gap, -- I'm torn with this line, apart from the 'in' repetition which sounds off, 'filled in' could be 'covered' but then it's not really the same meaning. 'June swept' and 'filled in' seem to be at odds with each other. I know that you can sweep rubbish to fill in a gap, but in this line it doesn't feel right. Perhaps something along the lines of June dumping garbage or June unloading its cargo.
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves, -- this works really well sonically as it sounds like it
a u-turn now a convoluted dance. -- likewise 'convoluted' works wonderfully here at disrupting the rhythm.
For me the above stanza worked much better in the other versions and it may be because there is no mention of a car in the above stanza. I know it's obvious really but it was slightly more difficult to get
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped. -- 'boat rack' damn I'm daft i was reading it as 'boa track' and I've just got it now
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop -- 'are' seems off to me here. Although it may just be me but I feel that the rhythm has been disrupted. Also with these two lines there is an almost rhyme with frost and stop which feels out of place with the rest of the poem, especially considering the slippiness of the stanza, although it may just be an accent thing again
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives. -- I like the idea of this ending, I'm wondering if the fact that it's a sentence on it's own keeps it a bit disconnected from the previous lines.
Enjoyed this, I think it's the best version yet especially now that the 'tense' issue has been resolved.
(03-16-2026, 06:01 PM)Magpie Wrote: Hi Ella, I like the new version,the change in tense for the first three stanzas works well, the poem reads smoother as a whole now. I've left some notes below.
In April when the trees began to leaf -- I liked this line from the first version, glad to see it back. I was confused why it was iambic pentameter and the rest of the poem was iambic tetrameter. But now it's back and the whole poem is iambic pentameter which I think helps
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away; -- I like 'daze of hibernation' but I suspect that it's probably been used before, so some might see it as cliché -- I'm not one of them though
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze. -- excellent sonics here
Then June swept in and filled in every gap, -- I'm torn with this line, apart from the 'in' repetition which sounds off, 'filled in' could be 'covered' but then it's not really the same meaning. 'June swept' and 'filled in' seem to be at odds with each other. I know that you can sweep rubbish to fill in a gap, but in this line it doesn't feel right. Perhaps something along the lines of June dumping garbage or June unloading its cargo.
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves, -- this works really well sonically as it sounds like it
a u-turn now a convoluted dance. -- likewise 'convoluted' works wonderfully here at disrupting the rhythm.
For me the above stanza worked much better in the other versions and it may be because there is no mention of a car in the above stanza. I know it's obvious really but it was slightly more difficult to get
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped. -- 'boat rack' damn I'm daft i was reading it as 'boa track' and I've just got it now
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop -- 'are' seems off to me here. Although it may just be me but I feel that the rhythm has been disrupted. Also with these two lines there is an almost rhyme with frost and stop which feels out of place with the rest of the poem, especially considering the slippiness of the stanza, although it may just be an accent thing again
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives. -- I like the idea of this ending, I'm wondering if the fact that it's a sentence on it's own keeps it a bit disconnected from the previous lines.
Enjoyed this, I think it's the best version yet especially now that the 'tense' issue has been resolved.
Cheers for the read
Thanks for putting the work in with this.
S1L3 I'll think on "daze'
S2L1- I'm not overly attached to this line (probably should be to use it ). I'll rework it and try to add a vehicle, and try to see what was lost from past versions.
Boatrack, spellcheck doesn't like it either so it's not you, boat-rack or boat rack. It was me who liked boatrack but I guess there's a reason it's not used, will pick one of the others.
S4L1 "are" seemed off to me too but I landed back on it, you may be right about the meter being uncomfortable (or wrong) there. Thanks.
S4L4 I want the disconnection so it's doing its job but I'll think on it.
I still don't have too much confidence in this one, I'm not sure its heart will ever come through but I really appreciate you pointing to where I can improve it and what to maybe keep. It's not taking time away from saving the world so I may as well poke at it. Thanks -ella
google came up with 8 "daze of hibernation", same for "haze of hibernation". Point taken, thanks.
same for groggy, guess no qualifier there, or something outlandish
(03-05-2026, 03:08 AM)wasellajam Wrote: No Outlet (edit 3) (Magpie, milo, John B, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
clandestine bulbs erupted into bloom
and garden plans conspired to coalesce;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June’s congested traffic clogged the road,
contracting an already narrow trail;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boat rack stacked, canoes and kayaks stowed..
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost,
its snow tires tightly wrapped in chains to slow
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet (edit 2) (John B, milo, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June swept in and filled in every gap,
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped.
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
Your imagery really inspires me. Reading your work also helps me condense my own imagery and think more carefully about how much each line needs to carry.
I especially liked the line about the u-turn — I almost feel a pause there when reading it. I wondered if something like “waltz” instead of “dance” might sharpen the movement even more, but the image already works really well.
(03-05-2026, 03:08 AM)wasellajam Wrote: No Outlet (edit 3) (Magpie, milo, John B, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
clandestine bulbs erupted into bloom
and garden plans conspired to coalesce;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June’s congested traffic clogged the road,
contracting an already narrow trail;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boat rack stacked, canoes and kayaks stowed..
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost,
its snow tires tightly wrapped in chains to slow
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet (edit 2) (John B, milo, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June swept in and filled in every gap,
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped.
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
Your imagery really inspires me. Reading your work also helps me condense my own imagery and think more carefully about how much each line needs to carry.
I especially liked the line about the u-turn — I almost feel a pause there when reading it. I wondered if something like “waltz” instead of “dance” might sharpen the movement even more, but the image already works really well.
Thanks so much for reading and commenting. The idea to use a specific dance is a good one, I'll certainly think about it.
I am glad you are still working on this one and - to my taste anyway - this is back on the right track. Couple nits below:
(03-05-2026, 03:08 AM)wasellajam Wrote: No Outlet (edit 3) (Magpie, milo, John B, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
clandestine bulbs erupted into bloom
and garden plans conspired to coalesce;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
So, I know you are going for blank verse here but the bloat is a little intrusive. For me - it would be better without some of it.
In April as the trees began to leaf
and bulbs erupted into bloom
as garden plans conspired
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Quote:Then June’s congested traffic clogged the road,
contracting an already narrow trail;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
awkward promotion on "an"
"reversal' - feels wrong - somehow fitting "backing up" would be better.
also, "now" in past tense . . .
Quote:September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boat rack stacked, canoes and kayaks stowed..
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
this is all fine
Quote:Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost,
its snow tires tightly wrapped in chains to slow
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
"its" possessive - hmmm. Feels weird for Winter to be possessing tires.
The first 3 lines of this S still feel a little contrived but overall it is looking pretty good.
Thanks for keeping with this
No Outlet (edit 2) (John B, milo, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June swept in and filled in every gap,
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped.
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
I am glad you are still working on this one and - to my taste anyway - this is back on the right track. Couple nits below:
(03-05-2026, 03:08 AM)wasellajam Wrote: No Outlet (edit 3) (Magpie, milo, John B, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
clandestine bulbs erupted into bloom
and garden plans conspired to coalesce;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
So, I know you are going for blank verse here but the bloat is a little intrusive. For me - it would be better without some of it.
In April as the trees began to leaf
and bulbs erupted into bloom
as garden plans conspired
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Quote:Then June’s congested traffic clogged the road,
contracting an already narrow trail;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
awkward promotion on "an"
"reversal' - feels wrong - somehow fitting "backing up" would be better.
also, "now" in past tense . . .
Quote:September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boat rack stacked, canoes and kayaks stowed..
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
this is all fine
Quote:Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost,
its snow tires tightly wrapped in chains to slow
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
"its" possessive - hmmm. Feels weird for Winter to be possessing tires.
The first 3 lines of this S still feel a little contrived but overall it is looking pretty good.
Thanks for keeping with this
No Outlet (edit 2) (John B, milo, P)
In April when the trees began to leaf
and garden plans conspired to coalesce,
the daze of hibernation fell away;
we woke to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June swept in and filled in every gap,
the narrow road was squeezed from either side;
reversal called for small repeated moves,
a u-turn now a convoluted dance.
September brought a pause as hubbub dimmed,
the boatrack stacked, canoes and kayaks tarped.
Tree by tree a blazing patchwork clad
the silhouette of mountains poised for sleep.
Now Winter settles, windows edged with frost;
its tires are draped with chains in hopes to stop
the likely skid that forfeits all control.
An eagle circles opened ice and dives.
No Outlet edit 1.8 (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)
In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.
September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
No Outlet
In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.
Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.
September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.
Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.
[/quote]
Hi, milo, really appreciate you coming back to this. I have other things to avoid and you had little a more faith in this than I did so I'm trying.
I agree the poem has gotten bloated as I tried to change the focus and also wanting to keep my original opening line
which was accidental IP so the whole of it grew. I reeeally like what you did to S1, thank you, it may let me keep lines I'm attached to while cutting the overly effusive language. I prefer a firm skeleton so I'll try the whole thing like that, thank you.
i'll check the nits on S2. Yes, the tires have belonged to Now Winter in all versions. It's part my metaphor that's so subtle it's invisible. We'll see what happens next edit.
(03-23-2026, 12:57 AM)Magpie Wrote: Ah, another edit.
It's the best one yet Ella, the new format with different line lengths works better.
Not really any other suggestions. Another excellent example of workshopping.
Thanks for the read
Yeah, I often take the long way around but the Pen is good walking company. I almost chucked this one because I couldn't find my focus, thanks for sticking with it.
wae aye man ye radgie
We'll see what happens next edit.