04-14-2016, 09:24 AM
bedeep - what a beautiful poem. I am of an age that I relate to the Dad, the guy finding the motel, picking the restaurant, and having some moments in the room with everyone, when presumably the kids are asleep. I am gratified with your perspective with the hope that my kids perhaps share those POVs. I enjoyed hearing the pool being the reward for 'having gotten this far', and the last stanza is wonderful. Whatever the adults would like to explain to the kids and have the kids accept as lessons, there is their own genuine and often surprising take. You present this well.
Leanne - your wordsmithing is incredible, your poem is so fun to read out loud, over and over.
Todd - awesome recitation of putative fortune cookie 'fortunes' (though none really seem to fortunes these days). I was wondering as I started reading through it the first time whether there would be the fortune - that was not chicken, but I soon saw your were writing at a level about five plateaus above that cheap but funny joke (in my mind anyway). The sequence in the poem provides a wonderful reading.
Just Mercedes - terrific setup for the delightful surprise ending. It really is a fun reading poem.
- - - ---- ----------- --
Hence
I remember the storm that toppled
the tallest windmill in the township.
Afterward it looked like it had been
dropped on its head. Grampa said
everything loses to gravity.
Of course I thought that not to be true,
recalling the oceans, how when underwater
my body moves slow, toward the surface
or with a current in aimless float
and I thought how flecks like me on the skin
of an orange spin wide circles around a sun
that moves terrifying distances, a small way,
in a galaxy hardly worth mentioning.
But I think finally my fate will be less like a planet
than a plant, which goes from green to brown,
then brittle, to finally lie down
in the arms of an afternoon wind.
Leanne - your wordsmithing is incredible, your poem is so fun to read out loud, over and over.
Todd - awesome recitation of putative fortune cookie 'fortunes' (though none really seem to fortunes these days). I was wondering as I started reading through it the first time whether there would be the fortune - that was not chicken, but I soon saw your were writing at a level about five plateaus above that cheap but funny joke (in my mind anyway). The sequence in the poem provides a wonderful reading.
Just Mercedes - terrific setup for the delightful surprise ending. It really is a fun reading poem.
- - - ---- ----------- --
Hence
I remember the storm that toppled
the tallest windmill in the township.
Afterward it looked like it had been
dropped on its head. Grampa said
everything loses to gravity.
Of course I thought that not to be true,
recalling the oceans, how when underwater
my body moves slow, toward the surface
or with a current in aimless float
and I thought how flecks like me on the skin
of an orange spin wide circles around a sun
that moves terrifying distances, a small way,
in a galaxy hardly worth mentioning.
But I think finally my fate will be less like a planet
than a plant, which goes from green to brown,
then brittle, to finally lie down
in the arms of an afternoon wind.