Four Years Old

[Todd]

Hi Lizzie,

I dropped off in the editing process somewhere. Let me address the new revision. What stands out to me most now isn't so much the imagination of childhood but the passive voice (I'm not actually criticizing it) and how it evokes more loneliness and isolation for me. When I first read this I took away playfulness and imagination. That isn't my main takeaway now.

Edit 3

Through afternoon light,
the white wardrobe played
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed--The object is the companion. Yes there is the active I climbed but it takes a bit to get there. It just seems to emphasize that the speaker is alone.
in and out. A water-filled baton
spun me until I felt weightless
as the purple glitter inside.--I still get a playful read and I like all the lines. Just a new feeling this time through.

The concrete jungle-gym--I think this is a clever reimagining of the near cliche
lifted me on its shoulders--the playground equipment acts as surrogate parent.
and we saw a playground
with children erased.--I see this was in later revisions and not the original. It is a true emphasis on the need of the speaker for friends and a lack of them. This feels almost an adult understand of what child could only grasp emotionally at the edges.

My brother disappeared
with the moon each morning--the moon gives me both a sense of time (still night) and a potential madness implication.
and mom did dishes in silence.--stoic coping
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.--the image serves much better without the original mention of inaccessibility. It still conveys this. It also conveys that life or vibrancy was absent in the home. It was something the mother couldn't share--so the speaker had to substitute with whitewashed props, plastic and glitter and concrete. There was imagination but it wasn't a fertile field. 

I read this now as quite sad. It wasn't my first take at all.

I hope the comments bring clarity or help in some way. I think I like the poem much better than I originally did.

Best,

Todd

[CRNDLSM]

My kiddo will be four soon, 

Edit 3

Through afternoon light,I like the progression of time afternoon to morning
the white wardrobe played
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed
in and out. A water-filled baton
spun me until I felt weightless
as the purple glitter inside. I really like how you capture the child playing it seems by itself

The concrete jungle-gym this  break and concrete jungle take me to the child's future, businesslike grown up
lifted me on its shoulders
and we saw a playground
with children erased. Sad that childhood is distant past

My brother disappeared this just makes everything sad
with the moon each morning playing by itself because a missing brother, empty playground cause brothers gone, but because of four years old this could imply still alive, but from a child's perspective the long-lasting absence is really well put in words here
and mom did dishes in silence.
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top. I guess the kid sees the mom as a strong tree who's slowly dying from the loss, doing dishes in silence dwelling on it.

Cheers lizzie!

Edit 2

I remember afternoons and light.
The white wardrobe played
hide-and-seek with me
and my water-filled baton
spun me weightless
as purple glitter.
The concrete jungle-gym
held me on its shoulders
and showed me a playground
with children erased.
My brother went away
to school each day
and mom did dishes in silence.
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.

Edit 1

I remember the afternoons and the light.
The white wardrobe would play
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed
in and out. My water-filled baton
spun me until I felt weightless
as the purple glitter inside.

The concrete jungle-gym
would hold me on its shoulders
and show me a playground
peopled as after the rapture.

My brother would go away
to school and mom would do dishes in silence.
She was a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.

Original version:

I remember the afternoons and the light
of my favorite things –
my white wardrobe that would play
hide-and-seek with me as I climbed
in and out, and my water-filled baton
that made me weightless
as the purple glitter inside.
I'd fixate on it for five
minutes or an hour, maybe.

I'd watch Sesame Street,
Mr. Rodger's Neighborhood.
Sesame Street was fun,
Mr. Rodger was company.

My brother would go away
each day to school and my mom
would do dishes in silence.
She was an inaccessibility,
a tree whose leaves were green
only at the very top.

[Lizzie]

Hi Carrie. Thanks for stopping by.

I feel I'm there in the kitchen and I can sense my mother's motions and the "green" that she saves for the surface. This is an interesting interpretation -- I hadn't thought about how that line could be read as the green only being on the top of the leaf, just on the surface. I suppose I should view the lack of clarity as a flaw, but I think it works either way, so I'll leave it for now.

 I am also a little unsure of the message. Well, there isn't one really. It's what happened -- it just is.

 I want to know more about the brother. I thought about that too, how it's left hanging. Ultimately I decided that the details wouldn't add anything new since we already know that the brother is gone and that he was a companion -- that's all the audience needs to know, really. 

By the end I felt like I was in a daze, rightfully so, but why? 

Overall I loved the airiness of it. Can you say more about what you mean when you say "airiness"? I'm not clear on your meaning.

Thanks for your time and for your kind words.

Lizzie

[QDeathstar]

Just a short comment.

Overall, after reading through all the revisions i think this one is the strongest. However, the one line I have an issue with is the lines "with children erased". When i read this a i stumbled a little bit because i thought maybe it was your brother but, no, its not in the poem. He disappeared each morning, so he's obviously not gone. so this line reads too heavy for the rest of the piece. I agree with the previous crit that was referring to this as lack of companions and friends, it fits. But, i think that "erased children" is a knife in the place of a brush.

[Lizzie]

Hey Todd, your interaction with it was quite helpful, actually. Sorry it's taken me so long to respond -- I've been letting it percolate.

Hi Lizzie,

What stands out to me most now isn't so much the imagination of childhood but the passive voice -- I think that's because of dropping the would's before the verb, it actually accentuates the tense.

When I first read this I took away playfulness and imagination. That isn't my main takeaway now. -- I wrote the initial version in response to a prompt to talk about your first bedroom. I can see now that there's a clear progression in the original from fun/superficial/glossed over at the beginning, and sadness creeping in at the end. I liked billy's call out about the anthropomorphism, and decided to structure the first two stanzas around that and to keep the tone a little wistful throughout.
I'm glad that's coming through, as long as it's not over the top or too maudlin.


My brother disappeared
with the moon each morning--the moon gives me both a sense of time (still night) and a potential madness implication. -- Interesting. Yes, the moon is often associated with madness. I was trying to find an image that would be emblematic of a child's mind that could replace the 'brother went away to school each day' which is pretty plain. But, yeah, I'm not wanting there to be too many other connotations slipping in here.

only at the very top.--the image serves much better without the original mention of inaccessibility. It still conveys this. It also conveys that life or vibrancy was absent in the home. It was something the mother couldn't share--so the speaker had to substitute with whitewashed props, plastic and glitter and concrete. -- I'm not sure if this is what you're getting at with whitewashed, but I am aware that I'm fighting against memory in a way -- it's hard to know what's well recollected and what's pieced together, polished over. I hope it doesn't READ too neat and clean, as in not believable.



I think I like the poem much better than I originally did. -- cool, glad it's headed in the right direction.

---

Hey Crundle. Thanks for the critique.

I can see how the second stanza could be read as pointing into the future, thanks for voicing your interpretation of that. Seems like this poem can be interpreted in many different ways.

So, in the last stanza you're reading that the loss of the brother each morning is a cyclical emotional loss and not a physical leaving? Interesting. I'm totally down with these disparities in interpretation as long as readers aren't thinking WTF at the end.

I'm glad that the diminishing green is being interpreted as a slow dying and not just a strange looking tree. Ha!

Thanks again for the helpful feedback!

---

Thanks for stopping by, Death. I see what you mean, that it sounds like the kids died or something. I was trying to use childlike images for absence. I suppose by the age of four kids don't think people are gone forever when they leave the room, so I take your point. Hmmmm....