Community Poetry Journal

Today in the Poetry Readers club we discussed @AlyTheBookworm's Reunion, a music-inspired poem that melds together the otherworldly and the familiar.

I believe there has only ever been one cold, moon-bright night,
And it knows nothing of time or memory or the featherweight of human years.
I believe that, beneath its canopy, we gaze at the same black skies,
That little one- that wild-haired sprite with firefly eyes- and me.

Who knew we’d be reunited by a full moon, a rain of falling stars,
And a favorite, tinny recording from the 80s, song of la luna,
Song of the snow-faced mother cradling gray-eyed son, his body white as ermine,
Shedding diamond tears from their night-colored eyes,
The infant’s wailing like sweet music to our ears, so tragically, deliciously alive.

Chill creeps into our pink faces, turns us porous and timeless and grey as moon-rock,
As stardust pools in our irises, clinging to our hair, soft as the mother’s whispering hush:
“Calladito, calladito.”
Who knew something so soft could sting so sharp?

The child-sprite is falling up now, into that cold black sky, her dead fingers grasping mine,
She pulls me after, and together we are wind-tossed, flying air.
We shed our winter coats and breathe ice,
Ghostly delight on her smiling face, echoing the thrum of my heart,
That core of warmth sustained,
Only by the soaring chords that carry us both atop their crest.

Moons wane, songs end, and infants grow into men and women,
Too tall and too heavy to ever again float off the face of the Earth.
But in her arms I dance and embrace the frozen sky,
Until the stars set and time resumes,
Locking her away in fifteen years ago,
To wait for the return of our cold, moon-bright night.

We talked about some points brought up by the author herself, @AlyTheBookworm, including who the figures in the poem are and how they are related to one another. Did you notice the four figures? (The speaker, the sprite, the mother and son all factor into the narrative of this fascinating poem!) Besides this, the personifications of the natural world also shine through in the piece and help set the tone and atmosphere.

@Seirre also pointed out that nearly all the lines in this poem ended with punctuation (i.e. there was little or no enjambment) and this led to a discussion about enjambment vs end-stopped lines. Some thought that enjambment creates a sense of breathlessness or restlessness, for example as we've seen in Mary Oliver's White-Eyes. Meanwhile, the end-stopped lines seem to create a steady rhythm, capturing a moment frozen in time.

Now that you've made it to the bottom of the post, why not answer @Seirre's personality quiz based on images from the poem?
Is your aesthetic best described as...
a)...the featherweight of human years
b)...wild-haired sprite with firefly eyes
c)...a favorite, tinny recording from the 80s
d)...so tragically, deliciously alive
e) or another image of your choosing from the poem?

Also feel free to share any thoughts you had in the comments!