Seasons

[Bunx]

Edit 1

Sitting on an old cedar chair,
staring into the fireplace
of a weathered cabin.

A worn elderly man nurses
a peaceful thought in
his mind.

Winters passing has come,
he wonders when the birds will
come back to their homes.

The fire's crackling reminds
him to inhale
softly on his pipe.

Slowly the smoke slithers
out of his mouth and swims
upward in the still air.

He pushes his hands
against the arms
of the chair.

Floorboards creek as
the man walks to the door.
His unsteady hands twist
the handle.

As he walks outside
he hears the welcome sound.
Chirping birds above him.

Eyes wet with joy, the man
begins his walk.




Original

Sitting on an old cedar chair,
staring into the fireplace
of a rotting cabin.

A worn elderly man nurses
a peaceful thought in
his mind.

Winters passing has come,
he wonders if the birds will
come back to their homes.

The fire's crackling reminds
him to inhale
softly on his pipe.

Slowly the smoke slithers
out of his mouth and swims
upward in the still air.

He pushes his hands
against the arms
of the chair.

Floorboards creek as
the man walks to the door.
His shaking hands twist
the handle.

As he walks outside
he hears the welcome sound.
Chirping birds above him.

Eyes wet with joy, the man
begins his walk.

[paxsan]

Sitting on an old cedar chair,
staring into the fireplace
of a rotting cabin.

A worn elderly man nurses
a peaceful thought in
his mind.

Winters passing has come,
he wonders if the birds will
come back to their homes.

The fire crackling reminds
the man to inhale
softly on his pipe.

Slowly the smoke slithers
out of his mouth and swims
upward in the still air.

The man pushes his hands
against the arms
of the chair.

Floorboards creek as
the man walks to the door.
His shaking hands twist
the handle.

As he walks outside
he hears the familiar sound.
Chirping birds above him.

Eyes wet with joy, the man
begins his walk.

I enjoyed this poem but couple of things I think would make it read better for me. Introduce the man before the cabin if you are going to spilt the poem this way. I dont think the repeated use of 'the man' works, using he would be much simplier and i think would make things read better.
Oh and the fire crackling needs an 's. I would consider changing the 'familar sound' to 'a welcome sound'.
The above are just my thoughts, feel free to ignore them. Theres a lot of powerful images in the work, I really like it.

[Bunx]

paxsun thanks for the edit. I added a few things you suggested. I changed a few "the mans" to "he" but that word seemed to get repeated alot so I used both. Thanks for the read

[expiring_touch]

I think this a nice poem, with some simple and heart warming imagery. It flows nicely, but I would suggest shifting 'softly' after inhale, up on the second line. It also has some nice alliterations, (smoke-slithers) and inner rhymes (creek-twist), that make the symbolism all the more enjoyable.

[Markworth]

This was a real pleasure to read. I do feel a bit sorry for him because he lives in a rotting cabin. I would much rather picture him living in a weathered cabin.

[Bunx]

haha thanks markworth. there is some symbolism in the rotting cabin. it is supposed to represent the state of the subject

[bbcashdollar]

Sitting on an old cedar chair,
staring into the fireplace
of a rotting cabin. <---wood rots, harder to picture as a structure, someone suggested weather, perhaps decrepit, which would refer back to the man

A worn elderly man nurses<---- I think there's a lot of reference to where that I think transfers to the man.

a peaceful thought in<-----perhaps, a peaceful thought in his pipe
his mind.

Winters passing has come,
he wonders if the birds will<---- when rather than if, I'm assuming he knows the seasons

come back to their homes.

The fire's crackling reminds
him to inhale softly <---- if you include the pipe earlier

Slowly the smoke slithers
out of his mouth and swims
upward in the still air.

He pushes his hands
against the arms
of the chair.

Floorboards creek as
the man walks to the door.
His shaking hands twist<---- perhaps trembling hand twists
the handle.

As he walks outside
he hears the welcome sound.
Chirping birds above him.

Eyes wet with joy, the man
begins his walk.

Some nice imagery. Thanks.

[Bunx]

bb! thanks alot for the feedback all of your suggestions were appreciated and I changed up the poem a bit. Glad you liked the imagery. I just started writing again and I am trying to make my poems as visual and hopefully as simple as I can! thanks for the read

[SuicidalBlueJay]

Edit 1

Sitting on an old cedar chair,
staring into the fireplace
of a weathered cabin.

A worn elderly man nurses
a peaceful thought in
his mind.

Winters passing has come,
he wonders when the birds will
come back to their homes.

The fire's crackling reminds
him to inhale
softly on his pipe.

Slowly the smoke slithers
out of his mouth and swims
upward in the still air.

He pushes his hands
against the arms
of the chair.

Floorboards creek as
the man walks to the door.
His trembling hands twist
the handle.

As he walks outside
he hears the welcome sound.
Chirping birds above him.

I honestly really liked this poem. I usually don't like poems that don't rhyme, but this one was particularly easy to understand. It was kind of beautiful. Anyways, when I saw the word "trembling" I thought the old man was maybe scared or something. Like you know how he is walking to the door? "trembling" makes me feel a lot of anticipation, like in scary movies where someone slowly turns the door knob? I think maybe "unsteady" would describe an old mans hands better, you know? I could be wrong. I'm new to poetry so don't take it to heart. But just a thought!

I like the change you made from "rotting" to "weathered" though. Very nice poem

[tectak]

Edit 1

Sitting on an old cedar chair,
staring into the fireplace
of a weathered cabin.

A worn elderly man nurses
a peaceful thought in
his mind.

Winters passing has come,
he wonders when the birds will
come back to their homes.

The fire's crackling reminds
him to inhale
softly on his pipe.

Slowly the smoke slithers
out of his mouth and swims
upward in the still air.

He pushes his hands
against the arms
of the chair.

Floorboards creek as
the man walks to the door.
His trembling hands twist
the handle.

As he walks outside
he hears the welcome sound.
Chirping birds above him.

I honestly really liked this poem. I usually don't like poems that don't rhyme, but this one was particularly easy to understand. It was kind of beautiful. Anyways, when I saw the word "trembling" I thought the old man was maybe scared or something. Like you know how he is walking to the door? "trembling" makes me feel a lot of anticipation, like in scary movies where someone slowly turns the door knob? I think maybe "unsteady" would describe an old mans hands better, you know? I could be wrong. I'm new to poetry so don't take it to heart. But just a thought!

I like the change you made from "rotting" to "weathered" though. Very nice poem

...and valid crit to boot.