12-11-2014, 10:27 AM
(12-09-2014, 03:36 AM)71degrees Wrote: Edit #1
Sleepless: eyes closed,
the open arms of an elm tree,
a mime show of shadows
spreading across mother’s rose
colored kitchen walls.
I found this stanza particularly effective at creating emotion. After each line I found my heart getting a little heavier.
Each memory a cedar closet:
notebooks of unwritten poems,
a tin of icebox cookies baked
back in Wisconsin; dead limbs
of a winter birch in the side yard,
and father, as he lay dying:
femur, blood, urine; nothing
working, not even his dark sleep. the only comment I have is that femur, blood, urine; nothing reads like a list to me, kind of feels off compared to the rest of the weighty poem
I dreamed about the strength
of this man’s trunk; his language,
his energy, the way his colors changed
year-to-year.
Who dreams about love
with an old year sputtering,
a new year tip-toeing in? Ive read this poem several times, and I've enjoyed it each time because of the emotion it forces out, but this stanza is, in my opinion, not worthy of the rest of the poem. I hate that sputtering part.. all of the t sounds stand out and it takes me out of the poem. This stanza is the reason I decided comment on the poem.
I wonder if he ever dreamed
at all?
I never asked.
and of course the ending is just. right.
Original
No one sleeps
they are, at least,
restless: eyes closed,
the open arms
of an elm tree,
a mime show
of shadows
spreading across
rose colored
kitchen walls
Who dreams
about love
with an old year
sputtering,
a new year
tip-toeing in?
Any memory is
a cedar closet:
notebooks
of unwritten
poems,
a tin of icebox
cookies baked
back in Wisconsin;
the dead limbs
of the winter birch
in the side yard
the dead limbs
of father as he lay
dying: femur, blood,
urine; nothing
working, not even
his dark sleep
I dreamed
about the strength
of this man’s trunk;
his language,
his energy,
the way his color
changed
year-to-year
As he lay dying,
I wonder if
he ever dreamed
at all?
I never asked.

