Green is not always green

Hey foreveryoung! :^) I am here to review this poem because I love it, thank you.

First off, I just want to gush because I love this imagery. The visual theme that carries throughout the poem is so vivid and I love the different layers and nuances of it that you've explored.

The field behind our home
Was a pond in my childhood
It used to serve as the best mirror,
To the beautiful birds in our neighbourhood.

From the start, I was able to see you providing a frame of reference. You set the scene for the inevitable change of the seasons, indicated by the past tense of "used to" and the pond being from your childhood.

The ducks put their wings into action
To fly to the adjacent lake
The fishes wanted to imitate them
However, they couldn’t. The pond became opaque.

I'm not sure how deeply to read into this, but I see a few layers in this. In the first stanza, I love the line that the pond used to serve at the best mirror - and I wonder how much of that plays into the relationship between the fish and the birds. How much does the bird see themselves in the fish, and vice versa? How much does the fish give the birds insight into themselves? [Insert thinking emoji.]

Personally, the message in this poem that really resonates with me is the desire of the fish to want to escape the winter cold and the deathly frozen cage of ice that comes with it. I think it is connected to a lot of real-life situations, where you feel trapped in a certain position - doomed, in a sense, to the fate that seems inevitable - and you watch others escape the same situation without you. I also see how it connects to the theme of childhood, growing up, and the change that comes with it.

Now I see and stare at the field
And think, green is not always green
The green leaves of the trees sealed
The fish’s future, turning it black.

I love the "green is not always green" line. To me, I feel like it communicates that though something may be "green," it may not be alive. Though something might look nice, it may not be as hopeful or as good as it seems. It could just be a facade, and it may not last forever. I can also see how it could be interpreted as pieces of our past (like fallen leaves from the previous season) can affect our future, "turning it black," so to speak.

While this poem doesn't paint a very hopeful picture of anyone's future I do think it portrays a very honest expression of a feeling a lot of people can relate to different degrees. I think many of us have found ourselves - myself included - mourning the loss of what once was and looking ahead to what seems like a dark and hopeless future. When "winter" comes, in the metaphorical sense in life, it's easy to think the winter is forever, and it often feels like that in the middle of it. But seasons do change, as the cycles of nature go on... though this poem doesn't focus on the perhaps, more redemptive parts of the necessity of change, haha.

I really do enjoy it though! The visual metaphor is a very beautiful one, and I really like how you executed it.

The only little nitpick I can think of right now is that in these two lines:

And think, green is not always green
The green leaves of the trees sealed

That's a lot of "green" within like, two or three words of each other. While I don't think you should change the line that gives the poem its namesake, maybe that second line could be reworded? But either way, I do still think it works.

Alright, I think that's all I got but hopefully all of this made sense! Thanks for sharing your lovely poem! That's all!

Hey there!! Ankeeta here with a brief review!!:D
I absolutely loved the poem, first of all. You really showed the power of time and that's really catchy. So here you go with some actual review now

The field behind our home
Was a pond in my childhood

Hm... I wonder how that works because tbh I haven't experienced it, but that seems kinda sad and I don't know why

It used to serve as the best mirror,
To the beautiful birds in our neighbourhood.

*Im not at all talking about plagiarism* these two lines reminds of one of the part in Tagore's childhood biography "Chhele-bela" and you just inspired me to read it again.

And the fishes- they used to whisper to one another
How to escape the kingfisher’s rage

Ah yes, how else are they supposed to survive XD. That's a real good comedic effect you gave right there.



Anyways, the rest of the part is kinda sad and I don't wanna highlight them all, overall, really good poem, a solid 9.5/10.


Keep writing! Love from Ankeeta!!^_^