Here There be Dragons- New Title and Edit

[ZHamilton]

Updated Title: At the Edges

At the edges, fabric frays. And men with it. 
Waves break strangely here on the northern coast. 
Where rivulets of water wander through sage grass; 
loose threads at the end of this American cloth. 

Along the 101, two men cook in a bus without tires.  

Several birch trees huddle together above a group of tents.  
Foliage stripped. 

Another day ends with no further to go. 
So the men watch the waves from just beyond the spray. 

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Wings outstretched. 
Ushering in a night of sand covered tent floors
and damp sleeping bags. 

Loose threads at the end of this tapestry 
woven of lives lived
at the edges
where the fabric frays.

[Semicircle]

At the edges, fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through 
sage grass like loose threads.       I cannot imagine a connection between small streams and loose threads.

Burned out cars 
and abandoned busses 
strewn like driftwood 
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees 
huddle together. Foliage stripped.      mostly stripped adds unnecessary detail
Exposed branches reach toward 
the tents pitched off the road. 

The waves break here. 
Sudden and violent. 

A crow’s skeleton rests 
on a small island.        Don't describe things as odd or strange. How are they odd or strange?
Its wings outstretched. 

Each grain of sand 
working its way into the tapestry. 
At the edges, where the fabric frays.

There are a lot of prepositions immersing you into an environment without much to do. I've made a couple poems with this problem.  

Past tense and present tense situations oscillate between each stanza.
The reader has to shift gears often.

[TranquillityBase]

At the edges, the fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through sage grass like loose threads.

Burned out cars and abandoned busses are strewn like driftwood caught in a cruel tide    left by a cruel tide?  I'm ambivalent about "cruel".  Forces of nature seem indifferent to me.
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees huddle together. 
Foliage mostly stripped. Exposed branches reach toward the tents pitched just off the road. 

The waves break strangely here. Sudden
and violent.        Waves imply a body of water that is missing until this line and that confused me.  If you are talking about some other kind of wave, needs to be made more clear.  If a body of water, I think mention of it should come earlier in the poem.  I don't think "rivulets" would have waves, but what do I know?   

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Its wings outstretched. 

The sand is everywhere. 

Each grain working its way into the cloth of this odd tapestry. At the edges
where the fabric frays.

I believe at least one of your previous poems mixed long and short lines as this one does, so I'm just going to assume that is your preference although it does make the poem verge into prose, or maybe it's meant to be a prose poem.

I get a post-apocalyptic impression from the poem.

I think the repetition of first and last line is effective.

Not crazy about the title.  A little too familiar.

[brynmawr1]

At the edges, the fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through sage grass like loose threads.   inverting the metaphor here might work better, i.e. ...loose threads wander like rivulets...

Burned out cars and abandoned busses are strewn like driftwood caught in a cruel tide
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees huddle together. 
Foliage mostly stripped. Exposed branches reach toward the tents pitched just off the road. 

The waves break strangely here. Sudden  consider moving this stanza to the first or near.  Introducing the waves, ocean earlier would help make some of the later imagery more relevant.
and violent. 

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Its wings outstretched. 

The sand is everywhere. 

Each grain working its way into the cloth of this odd tapestry. At the edges
where the fabric frays.

Hi Z,
I think you have a great foundation, but I need more footholds to follow the understory of 'the pitched tents' and the 'grain working its way' and why that is significant.
Thanks for sharing,
bryn

[RiverNotch]

Something about this piece feels....off. Like it's all too "aesthetic". If I follow the metaphor right, the tapestry is the scene being described, which seems to be some bit of civilization ravaged by some freaky tide, with the threads of the sheet slowly unravelling being the rivulets of water draining the flood. But "fraying" has negative connotations, while surely a flood subsiding is a good thing, in which case the poem may have a whole "nature reclaiming her own" vibe going on? 

And yet....no, yeah, that's what makes it feel off. If the piece means to signify "nature reclaiming her own", it seems to revel in nature's triumph against those unfortunate enough to live somewhere that can flood like that, the kind of people who at the end of the day aren't likely to be so responsible for the disaster they experience. I feel like the scene being described is probably worth describing, it's just the speaker seems to be stuck on the metaphor they started with -- the fraying tapestry -- rather than really focusing on why the scene seems so much like a tapestry or some other work of art in the first place. There's not enough horror or absurdity (it's not exactly strange for waves to break suddenly and violently in a lot of places, for instance) with maybe a bit too much confusion (tents are literally made of fabric).

Also, with the first two stanzas being composed of properly flowing sentences, the very first sentence even being broken into two clauses by a comma, the way the rest of the poem breaks like if I had written this sentence like this --

Also. With the first two stanzas being composed of propely flowing sentences. The very first sentence even being broken into two clauses by a comma. The way the rest of the poem breaks like if I had written this sentence like this. It doesn't work.

-- it doesn't work.

[TrevorConway]

Hi Z

This piece didn't engage me. The tone is just very samey, and it seems to just want to describe a scene that isn't of any great interest. It feels to me like an exercise rather than an actual poem. I hope that isn't too harsh - just trying to give you a sense of my perspective as a reader when I encounter the poem.

Best of luck with it.

Trev

At the edges, the fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through sage grass like loose threads. Quite a nice image

Burned out cars and abandoned busses are strewn like driftwood caught in a cruel tide
on the side of the 101. This image feels like it tries too hard

Several birch trees huddle together. 
Foliage mostly stripped. Exposed branches reach toward the tents pitched just off the road. 

The waves break strangely here. Sudden The waves breaking strangely might be the most interesting part of your poem, but then the explanation of sudden and violent takes that away, as waves breaking suddenly and violently doesn't seem strange to me. "The waves break strangely here" would be a very good opening line, in any case
and violent. 

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Its wings outstretched. 

The sand is everywhere. I'm not sure how to take this, how literally or not. I can't picture the sand. Is it covering everything on the ground, covering grass, concrete, etc.?

Each grain working its way into the cloth of this odd tapestry. At the edges
where the fabric frays.

[ZHamilton]

SC- Thanks for taking time to provide the feedback. I've had others mention the issue with tense switching- I'll see if I can resolve that.