Baby's Breath (edit)

[kolemath]

THIRD DRAFT

"Baby's Breath"

All day hiking long blue mountains, three
tiny strides to match your mommy's step,
little ducking flapping upward,
patting along the path, 
panting breaths escape your weary face
until the color of a flower leaps onto your lips,
"Look, Da Da!"
your chipper cheep and feet 
springing for the wild blossom.

All night in the dozing Shenandoah,
the wheezing zees of wind inside the forest,
weaving with your breath,
rhythm in the air,
little nest of baby blankets on your chest
rise and fall, rise and fall.
Silver walls of night light, 
shadows in the window,
midnight's cold colored voice,

no more to my core
than your breath asleep.



SECOND DRAFT
 
"Baby Breath"
 
All day hiking long blue mountains 
to the tops, three 
tiny strides to match your mommy's step,
little duckling flapping upward
patting along the path,
panting breaths from a narrow face
until the color of a flower leaps onto your lips.
 
“Look, Daddy!” you say as you pluck and sniff
and give the gift. 
 
All night in the doze of the Shenandoah,
the wind whispers inside
the forest, weaving with your breath, humming 
rhythm in the air, 
little nest of baby blankets on your chest,
rise and fall, rise and fall,
gusts and drafts whine and sigh,
silver walls of nightlight, shadows in the window,
midnight’s cold and colored voice 
 
no more to my core
than warm winds of you asleep.




FIRST DRAFT

"Baby Breath"
 
Silver walls of nightlight,
shadows in the corners,
baby folded in the covers,
rhythm in the air, baby blanket
rise and fall, rise and fall over baby’s belly.
Rest.
 
All day hiking long hills, little steps
flapping forward, duckling
face, eyes squint low and narrow,
all the way to the top, three
tiny strides
to match mommy's step,
patting along the path
focused, determined, three years old,
not one wine or tear
in the sprinkling rain.
 
At night in the doze of the Shenandoah,
the wind blows inside
the forest whispering
to baby’s breath,
and from doze to snore
and breeze to gust,
cold clattering,
 
no more to the core
than warm winds of you asleep.
 

[UselessBlueprint]

"Baby Breath"

Silver walls of nightlight,
shadows in the corners,
baby folded in the covers,
rhythm in the air, baby blanket
rise and fall, rise and fall over baby’s belly. (lots of images, but little happens)
Rest. (not a whole lot I can say for this one. positions are fair, images are fair, but I get very little from it. I personally prefer to read something with sentences, i.e., action -- not a list of images, as this begins with)

All day hiking long hills, little steps (I'm a notably poor mind reader, so the line breaks are mystery to me right now. perhaps that will become clearer in the future)
flapping forward, duckling
face, eyes squint low and narrow, (images are even better now, and a little more stuff is happening)
all the way to the top, three (particularly confusing enjambment for me. I can dig up a few potential reasons, but right now I prefer to believe it's simply for sylllabes)
tiny strides 
to match mommy's step,
patting along the path (works well with the duck idea, sonically speaking)
focused, determined, three years old, (first two words are a little redundant, and don't seem like they belong to me (opinion) , but definitely worth reexamining this line)
not one wine or tear (whine? or wine?)
in the sprinkling rain.

At night in the doze of the Shenandoah, (googled this, I'm only familiar with the topography of Maine, New York, and Alaska)
the wind blows inside ("the" on subsequent lines throws me off. not actually a problem)
the forest whispering
to baby’s breath,
and from doze to snore (no idea what's going on from here onward)
and breeze to gust,
cold clattering,

no more to the core
than warm winds of you asleep. (I don't like leaving the "you" until the end. It always feels cliche to me, but more critically, introducing such a severely ambiguous character on the final line means that I now have to consider far to many possible "you" characters when reading.)

Okay, so I'll try to go about this seriously, but it is late at night and I haven't sat down with this for too long. Between a mother, a three year old, a duckling, a mountain, and a "baby", I can only connect a few of the ideas within your piece here. I prefer when a poem is written with sentences that have syntax and semantics when the line breaks are removed. I prefer it to tell some sort of story. If not that, then I prefer it to be conversational. This doesn't seem to me to be either. You haven't overused whitespace this time, which I am glad about.

Personally, I find the styles and subjects of your writing to be confusing, and perhaps a bit of something else which I cannot currently describe except to say I do not like it. Nevertheless, I am dangerously close to almost liking this one. If you can sacrifice ambiguity, give me clarity. If you cannot sacrifice ambiguity, give me connections, otherwise it's like trying to connect the polka dots.

[kolemath]

I appreciate your readings UBP

[Lizzie]

"Baby Breath" -- was this an intentional play on Baby's Breath, the flower?
 
Silver walls of nightlight,
shadows in the corners,
baby folded in the covers, -- I felt like things were going to veer off into sentimentality here.
rhythm in the air, baby blanket -- Rhythm in the air is unexpected, and I like that -- pulled me out of Hallmark.
rise and fall, rise and fall over baby’s belly. -- I would end the stanza here and omit "rest." It feels redundant.
Rest. 
 
All day hiking long hills, little steps
flapping forward, duckling
face, eyes squint low and narrow,
all the way to the top, three  -- I actually like having "three" hanging off the end there because it mirrors "three years old" below.
tiny strides
to match mommy's step,
patting along the path
focused, determined, three years old,
not one wine or tear -- did you mean "whine." I know I never have enough wine on my hikes....
in the sprinkling rain.
 
At night in the doze of the Shenandoah, -- I like the establishment of place with "Shenandoah."
the wind blows inside
the forest whispering
to baby’s breath,
and from doze to snore
and breeze to gust,
cold clattering, -- I'm not in love with clattering. I can't quite get that one. Although, I do like how it makes that cold stand out as unwelcome and alien.
 
 
no more to the core
than warm winds of you asleep. -- I can see that there's an ambiguity in this line. I'm assuming that it refers back to the child in the beginning. Just depends on the amount of mystery you are trying to cultivate.
 

I do agree that it moves slowly, particularly compared with your other works. I think it mirrors what it's like to hike with a toddler/preschooler (depending on how newly three the little one is), or that's my interpretation. And you're following the pacing of the breath, so it's like a meditation. 

I really like your work and enjoy how different each poem is!

[DavidF]

Hi, I'm new and not quite sure how to start but I found this and I really liked the second verse. I would have liked to have read it first. I wasn't engaged by the opening imagery. And I must admit that as I read I find it hard to pace myself. That might be my problem. And I often find myself skimming over imagery which doesn't seem paced to me, I am a musician and sometimes a folksy one. I like 'rhythm in the air' when things are more folksy than modern classical. 

Sorry if that seems more like prejudice than criticism.

"Baby Breath"
 
Silver walls of nightlight,
shadows in the corners,
baby folded in the covers,
rhythm in the air, baby blanket
rise and fall, rise and fall over baby’s belly.
Rest.
 
All day hiking long hills, little steps
flapping forward, duckling
face, eyes squint low and narrow,
all the way to the top, three
tiny strides
to match mommy's step,
patting along the path
focused, determined, three years old,
not one wine or tear
in the sprinkling rain.
 
At night in the doze of the Shenandoah,
the wind blows inside
the forest whispering
to baby’s breath,
and from doze to snore
and breeze to gust,
cold clattering,
 
no more to the core
than warm winds of you asleep.
 

[kolemath]

Thanks to everyone for reading the poem.  I've posted an edit.

@UBP - I've tried to clean up the character references.

@lizziep - I tried to play with the baby's breath flower idea and feature the literal meaning more prominently. And yes, it's important to properly hydrate on hikes.  Thank you for appreciating the slow speed of the poem, as it's winding down; this helped me better understand the interaction between imagery and event.

@davidf - Thanks for the suggestion of beginning with stanza 2. This guided the edit heavily.  Now I start with the activity and end with the lines which wind the activity down to sleep.

[DavidF]

The forest, weaving with your breath,

This really leapt out as right and good, pinpointing the exact moment of inspiration and outdoing the title.

D.

[milo]

SECOND DRAFT
 
"Baby Breath"
 
All day hiking long blue mountains 
to the tops, three

I don't think you need "to the tops"

tiny strides to match your mommy's step,
little duckling flapping upward
patting along the path,

probably "padding" instead of "patting".  The rest of this is good.  you are maintaining a nice iambic rhythm.  My instinct would be to cut "your" but it would ruin your iambics.

panting breaths from a narrow face
until the color of a flower leaps onto your lips.

  "color of a flower leaps onto your lips" is quite good.  I question the point of "narrow" face as it cries out as a red herring but it is not overly bothersome.

 

“Look, Daddy!” you say as you pluck and sniff
and give the gift.

  so, here I am more seriously questioning the need for second person as it is a little bothersome and a little twee.  also, "pluck and sniff and give" is a bit awkward, maybe something a little more limber.

 
All night in the doze of the Shenandoah,
the wind whispers inside
the forest, weaving with your breath, humming 
rhythm in the air,

pretty good, though the switch to anapaests is noticeable if you are wondering.  Also, technically, you don't hum a rhythm, you humm "rhythmically" or you hum a melody and both of those have challenges so I understand your choice but the incongruity is bothersome if you were wondering.

little nest of baby blankets on your chest,
rise and fall, rise and fall,
gusts and drafts whine and sigh,

mostly good, "whine AND sigh" is overtly inefficient and should be changed.

silver walls of nightlight, shadows in the window,
midnight’s cold and colored voice 
 
no more to my core
than warm winds of you asleep.

overall, pleasantly sonic and theatrical.  I like it.  "Warm winds" - maybe needs some tinkering.  Perhaps "warm breath" or some such tinkering.

Thanks for posting.
Good luck.

[kolemath]

Thanks for pointing out the awkward rhythms and words, milo! meter/diction revision posted!!