Here's a exercise we did in English class a couple days ago. It's about form, style, and most crucially, the importance of your last line.
The following is a poem by James Wright entitled:
Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy's Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year's horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
It's a nice poem, no? The poem really beautiful in it's understatement, and how it conjures perfectly the feeling of sitting in that hammock. The sounds and feelings of that rural life are so eloquently expressed. And the last line is clearly a metaphor for something, right? Agree with me.
Except I've made one crucial revision. I deleted the actual last line. So my challenge is to make up your own last line. What is this poem telling you? What do you want to wrap it up with? Don't cheat, write down your substitute and post it. And then hit the jump.
[spoiler]Have you really really written your own line? Don't tell me you couldn't, it's really easy actually. The line I wrote in class was; "And we both drift into the dawn". See, it makes the last four lines rhyme, and it matches to progression of the poem. Of course, I wrote a couple sarcastic lines too; like "It doesn't find it" or "I reach for my rifle..." Those are fine too.
Ok, here it is.
***
Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy's Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota
Over my head, I see the bronze butterfly,
Asleep on the black trunk,
blowing like a leaf in green shadow.
Down the ravine behind the empty house,
The cowbells follow one another
Into the distances of the afternoon.
To my right,
In a field of sunlight between two pines,
The droppings of last year's horses
Blaze up into golden stones.
I lean back, as the evening darkens and comes on.
A chicken hawk floats over, looking for home.
I have wasted my life.[/spoiler]
Cheers.
