No Outlet (new edit 4)

[wasellajam]

Hello ella.  I have read now the original and the revision with some interest.  Unfortunately, I fear I may be about to give feedback that no poet wants to hear . . .

No Outlet  edit 1.8  (S4 still to go) (P. and John B.)

In April, green a promised glow,
the hibernating year-round folk
emerge unbundled, give a wave
and catch the still-chilled sunlit breeze.

and it starts here - ok, I preferred the earlier version.  I enjoyed leaf as a verb as well as sweatered sunlit breeeze.  But more than that (and it is already substantial)  there was a whimsical, luxury-of-time feel to the first version.  More of a "promise" of things to come but a patience with the promise.  This version feels more insistent.  It almost has an Eliot feel of spring forcing the roots from the earth rather than a casual theatrical cast in the dramam of the seasons which, unless I am competely off here, felt important to your metaphor.  We are cast members in this diorama of the seasons is what I got from the first, in this I feel the insistences of the season.  Particularly, we are not awaking, we are emerging, we don't bask, we give.

Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around;
with many moves a car can squeeze
between the rocks and trees to flee.

September comes, just diehards stay
and bear the weekend warriors
who visit seeking blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.

I feel like "comes" is the wrong word here - whether considering the more Frost-like denizens of the season or Eliot-like victims of the season.  Weekend warriors is for sure a cliche. "visit", as well, is weak. "blazing" seems wrong for the opposite reason. I guess, visitors seeking an imagined glory of the seasons can be accurately conveyed using it, I just don't know if the support is here.  Much of this is the same as the earlier version. Honestly, I am not sure about much of this and I am reluctant to say anything

Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.

I think "now" is important here - it makes me think in the beginning it should have been "began", "emerged", etc. no? The tense confusion, for me, doesn't help. And the passive voice on "slowing", once again, it muddles your message. I didn't mention it in the previous S but, "flee" to me, felt to point right at your central metaphor - the perceived (maybe false anticipation) of the visitors contrasted sharply with the residents who live in a spot  others would wish to visit because casual beauty is contrasted by daily inconvenience (mundanity?)

I don't know, I do enjoy the poem and I know I pointed to a lot, but I feel it is more muddled now that earlier. 

Thanks

No Outlet

In April when the trees begin to leaf
the year-round denizens emerge
and greet each other, waking up
to bask in sweatered sunlit breeze.

Then June arrives and neighbors clog
the road, no room to turn around,
in many moves a car can just
about reverse its route to flee.

September comes, the hubbub dims
except for weekend warriors
anticipating blazing views
of mountain forests poised for sleep.

Now Winter slowing to a stop,
its tires clad in chains for grip
demands an effort unfulfilled
to slide its way to anywhere.

[/quote]

Thanks for stopping in, milo. I hear you, not the first time my attempt to bring a metaphor to light sucked a weak poem dry. It really isn't about what everyone is getting, I've detailed myself into a hole and yes, I am that confused. I'll have to decide if I care enough to fix it or save a few of the sweet bits for something else.

I never mind when someone points out that a poem sucks, not the first, won't be the last. I appreciate you explaining your read to me, I'm sure there's something to be learned from it, if only from examining how the edit screwed it.

Better luck to us both next time.