Wing

I recall my first time flying
through the vineyards in the rain;
and the silver of the skyline
grew ominous and still.

So on highway thirty-seven
under mangled iron and mud,
I felt the lead to sing again,
so I breathed out Heaven's song.

_________
Dummmmmmb and structured like a good poem. 8P Pengy,
I hope you're happy or laughing or something. Enjoy or mock.
Whatever.

Hey, Flumicakes.
This was a nice piece, but not very memorable. It seemed to arrive and pass without leaving a mark, but I feel like it reached out at the last moment and tried to touch me, but missed as it passed. I don't want it to miss, and I think if you work at it just a little more, it will be able to reach.

I recall my first time flying
through the vineyards in the rain.

This is a strong image. This can make the reader see it literally, a blur of green as something moves quickly through it, and there's a feeling of weightlessness but also of pressure as the rain moves downward, so there are a lot of good feelings moving through these first words.

And the lush, green delta swampland
was calling out my name.

Here you continue with the green, though you didn't name it before. But you don't even need it here. I understand if you're trying to stick to a rhythm, but I think the line works just as well without it, and perhaps better since you still get the feeling of a green from the words LUSH and SWAMP.

So on highway thirty-seven
under mangled iron and mud,
I felt the lead to sing again,
so I breathed out Heaven's song.

Be careful of the meter/rhythm here, too. "So" seems unnecessary and cumbersome, and I'd recommend that you take it out. I don't understand the use of the word "lead" here, either. Need? Urge? instead. I'm not sure. Because of this uncertainty, I feel reluctant to make a judgment on the emotion of this poem. What I've grasped from it is, perhaps, a death amidst memories of happier, greener times. I appreciate the use of the word "breathed", because it seems as if instead of "singing" the song, it's being forced out of the speaker's body, and could perhaps represent the dying "breath", which would make this narrative especially poignant: singing to the last moment.

If you ever rework this without meter, I would suggest rearranging the first sentence to speak about the rain first, and to have the swampland call for something other than a name, something more important. Furthermore, it would be nice to have just a very subtle expansion of the situation, maybe even just use words that are more FINAL if this piece is actually about a death, so that the reader can feel just a bit more confident in feeling regret for whatever has just happened.

Let me know if you have any questions. Thanks!

-Hannah-

Oh my gosh, I really liked it! You did a good job of using punctuation to break up your poem.

Lumiz this was really nice. I was unbelievably attracted to the way you described your images. Great poem, I wonder what a poem about true love would sound like if it were written by you Lumiz. I want you to write me one if its okay ^^

I was not, was not, was not stalking your work.
As for mocking - I refuse! This was a lovely poem but I think you need just one more stanza, one more that flows on from that last sentence because I think that was what really captured me. One more will just make this poem!
I think it reminded me of a book I read once, or perhaps a chapter here on YWS. I was able to think about that whilst reading this, but the journey was over a little too soon.
Keep on typing!