10-27-2018, 05:45 AM
Hello, Todd, another hauntingly lovely poem. I'll tell you what I see and hopefully that will help you know if you are saying what you mean to say. Though there has been much waffling in my mind, I finally came to the conclusion that the missing person has passed away, rather than merely a physical or emotional separation, there is a certainty to the imagery. I see the narrator as a mother missing a child, struggling to deal with the finality of the situation.
)
-Quix
(10-26-2018, 06:22 AM)Todd Wrote: She leaves home so often;I hope some of that helped. (Really I just wanted to say lovely poem. :
you stop noticing. Until the day,
she doesn’t come back. These lines perfectly express how unprepared any parent is to lose a child. The things we take for granted until they are gone.
Light retreats to shadow,
You pull back the curtain
to peer down the tunnel I love "tunnel" in conjunction with "hungry night," it gives the feeling of falling
between streetlights, listen
to the hungry night, then turn back
to your husband over dinner and push
food around your plate.
The hours drag the rivers, I love this line. It is beautiful and says too much is such a small space. It's a painful line, which in a poem like this is a good thing. It is also the first clue that makes me see this as a death rather than a separation.
waiting for a call, or a note,
like in the movies, but there’s no bargaining
except with God. She’s vanished "No bargaining except with God" again, implying death over separation. The break there after "bargaining" is emotionally effective.
in a perverse magic trick,
into a disappearing box, I like the imagery here, I imagine the disappearing box as a coffin ...
out of your life,
and the magician I do not like these two lines, it feels a step too far, too dramatic or something, and they are not necessary to the magic trick metaphor. simply not having the magic words is final enough.
has had a heart attack.
No words exist
to make her reappear.
) -Quix
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara
