Lost

[tectak]

Lost
 
Curl up with me and be the wind, scurrying through  fallen fronds.
We’ll  lift the lifeless, browned and  broken, tear the heather’s  leggy  limbs,
screech the news of spring’s late coming, hail out loud  to moss and  mire.
Hunched and pinched with grim, thin lips, the staggered searchers
we once  knew, stumble above  this  hacked-out haven ,
our shelter  from  sly dry-born snow. Who can call out?
Who make a movement? How long will they  prod for phantoms,
whilst we dream  in  frozen sleep?  We shall not wake, we are not  sleeping,
we who are lost on this bleak scar. Our destination, bare forgotten,
numbed from  thoughts when toes  lost touch;  becomes  now  clear
as ice-moon  circles…purples, shades of blue and green.
Further, now, than we can call to, colours fill the warming sky.
I cannot hear  the breath I captured, held it trapped lest we should die.  
Hold on, hold tight… I see the light…surely we shall soon be free.
Sleep now, lie still, wait patiently.
Curl up, curl up, curl up
with
me.
 
Tectak
2018
(we have had snow)

[Richard]

Hey tectak,
I quite like some of the imagery in this. I do have some suggestions though:

Lost
 
Curl up with me and be the wind, scurrying through  fallen fronds. -I like the image of the "fallen fronds" and it sounds wonderful. I don't know if "scurrying" is the right word here though. That word brings to mind a small animal, not the wind. May be use a word like "pushing" or "pressing"? That might mess up your meter though.
We’ll  lift the lifeless, browned and  broken, tear the heather’s  leggy  limbs, -Is the extra space between "and" and "broken" intentional?
screech the news of spring’s late coming, hail out loud  to moss and  mire. -The part about screeching and spring works well with your wind imagery. The word "screech" is such a cold word, so it works with a cold wind.
Hunched and pinched with grim, thin lips, the staggered searchers -I feel like starting a new stanza here would be helpful because you're moving from the wind imagery to focus more on the searchers.
we once  knew, stumble above  this  hacked-out haven , -I get the feeling like the speaker and who they're with are dead or close to it. For this reason, I don't know if the word "haven" is appropriate. May be if you could try to come up with an oxymoron using "haven". The wording "hacked-out" works as an image for their haven, but I feel like you could come up with a better way to describe it since it might also be their tomb. Just a thought.
our shelter  from  sly dry-born snow. Who can call out? -I like the use of the questions in the next few lines. I wish there was a way you could space them so they were their own lines. I know that might screw up your meter, but I feel like these questions deserve some extra emphasis.
Who make a movement? How long will they  prod for phantoms, -The wording, "prod for phantoms" is just wonderful. It's nice sounding and a strong image. 
whilst we dream  in  frozen sleep?  We shall not wake, we are not  sleeping, -I'm not a fan of the word "whilst". It's too old timey for my liking.
we who are lost on this bleak scar. Our destination, bare forgotten, -I like the image of the "bleak scar". It just seems to come out of no where to me. It might be an image worth expanding on, or may be build up to it more.
numbed from  thoughts when toes  lost touch;  becomes  now  clear -I quite like comparing the forgotten destination to their frostbite.
as ice-moon  circles…purples, shades of blue and green. -This brought to mind the Northern Lights. I like how that becomes their destination.
Further, now, than we can call to, colours fill the warming sky. -I like how death leads to warmness here. It's the opposite of what you would expect. Personally, I would suggest ending the poem here. I think this is a strong image. The rest of the poem seems to just emphasize the speaker's death, whereas this line has some wonder to it.
I cannot hear  the breath I captured, held it trapped lest we should die. 
Hold on, hold tight… I see the light…surely we shall soon be free.
Sleep now, lie still, wait patiently.
Curl up, curl up, curl up
with
me. -I like that you came full circle with this ending, but I would still suggest ending on the warming sky line.
 
Tectak
2018
(we have had snow)

Overall, I think this a strong piece, and I look forward to seeing where you go from here with it.

Cheers,
Richard

[20_Hamilton_18]

Hey,

Like this a lot, lots of strong and interesting imagery used here to convey the N.'s experience to the reader. I like the long lines, but could breaking them up a little bit more help to convey the idea of snow showers mixed in with gusts of wind? Otherwise, I think Richard has really hit the nail on the head with his response to this, because of that I don't think I have an awful lot to add. I would like to suggest weaving for scurrying in the opening line though. Sorry I couldn't add much more to what Richard has already said

Johnny

[Knot]

Hi tectak,
trampled all over your meter, but you probably expected that.
Bit of an alliteration overload in places, but enjoyable.

Curl up with me and be the wind, scurrying through fallen fronds.
We’ll lift the lifeless, browned and broken, tear the heather’s leggy limbs,
screech the news of spring’s late coming, hail out loud to moss and mire.
does wind 'screech'? and if so why then 'hail out loud'?
Hunched and pinched with grim, thin lips, the staggered searchers
we once knew, stumble above this hacked-out haven ,
maybe 'our' for 'this'? (Then a modifier for 'shelter' - 'safe'?)
our shelter from sly dry-born snow. Who can call out?
dry-born? Second 'call'
Who make a movement? How long will they prod for phantoms,
makes? Don't the 'probe' rather than 'prod'?
whilst we dream in frozen sleep? We shall not wake, we are not sleeping,
'sleep' and 'sleeping' ?
we who are lost on this bleak scar. Our destination, bare forgotten,
'bare' as in 'very, lazy'?
numbed from thoughts when toes lost touch; becomes now clear
'our hands' for 'toes' ? ('toes lost touch' seems a bit twee )
'now clear', an inversion? You? Really?
as ice-moon circles…purples, shades of blue and green.
Further, now, than we can call to, colours fill the warming sky.
'call' again
I cannot hear the breath I captured, held it trapped lest we should die.
'die' is a bit disappointing, no subtlety here. Maybe cut 'lest we should die'?
Hold on, hold tight… I see the light…surely we shall soon be free.
Sleep now, lie still, wait patiently.
'patiently' feels like it has too many syllables, given the surrounding words.
Curl up, curl up, curl up
with
me.


I think Richard's idea of ending on 'sky' makes sense
and perhaps a three line format might also work.


I cannot hear the breath I captured, held it trapped lest we should die.
Hold on, hold tight… surely we shall soon be free....I see the light…
Sleep now, lie still, wait patiently.

Curl up, curl up, curl up
with
me.

Curl up with me and be the wind, We’ll lift the lifeless,
browned and broken, tear the heather’s leggy limbs, screech the news
of spring’s late coming, hail out loud to moss and mire.

Hunched and pinched with grim, thin lips, the staggered searchers
we once knew, stumble above this hacked-out haven ,
our shelter from sly dry-born snow. Who can call out?

Who make a movement? How long will they prod for phantoms,
whilst we dream in frozen sleep? We shall not wake, we are not sleeping,
we who are lost on this bleak scar. Our destination, bare forgotten,

numbed from thoughts when toes lost touch; becomes now clear
as ice-moon circles…purples, shades of blue and green.
Further, now, than we can call to, colours fill the warming sky.


Best, Knot.

[Fatman Butter]

I like the start of this; but in the bit I'm about to repost I lost my way. I'm going to suggest some edits in an attempt to tighten it up. They are only suggestions.

Hunched and pinched with grim, thin lips, the staggered searchers
we once  knew, stumble above  this  hacked-out haven ,
our shelter  from  sly dry-born snow. Who can call out?
Who make a movement? How long will they  prod for phantoms,
whilst we dream  in  frozen sleep?  We shall not wake, we are not  sleeping,
we who are lost on this bleak scar.


Hunched with grim, thin lips, staggered searchers, stumble above this  hacked-out haven.
Who can call out? Who might make a movement?
How long will they  prod for phantoms, whilst we dream in frozen sleep?
We shall not wake, we are not sleeping...we are lost on this bleak scar.

I have stopped at this point as what you may, or may not adopt will be relevant to what
(also can see what I think is better: Hunched with pinched lips searchers stumble above this hacked-out haven.)