plowing through the night

on fires, and glowing orange fibers

dance across your fingers

like elastic bands, like

lovelovelovelove. I'm sorry, that's not a very helpful way to start a review. But it's just such a gorgeous image and I'll tell you why, to try and redeem myself: the first part, in its lowercase letters and pessimistic "i'd never"s seems so apathetic that this image of almost absentminded boredom complements it perfectly. And the brevity only adds to that.

Things: "orange fibers" are dancing, but fibers are very tactile, concrete things, whereas everything around them is abstract and light. It's difficult to see these seemingly heavy images dance elastically while the "night clasps" and "fireflies...cut through" very crisply. Similarly, "plowing" through the night is the same kind of bogged down word that doesn't segue so well into sudden recollections and lilting (albeit solemn) fireside contemplations.

I'm so glad there's the ending comparison to fireflies, cutting through something unknown, to some unknown place.

I like this poem because it captures and expresses something that I can acknowledge but not represent very well. So when I encounter a work that *can* I'm very impressed.

Hey!

Great job! You had an awesome idea, and a good imagery.

I loved both your beginning and your end.

the light fireflies leave behind

when they cut through.

Okay, this might sound pretty stupid, but cut through what? I had to read that twice to get it, and I really think you could clarify it a little bit more, maybe by adding a couple of words. Just a suggestion.

somewhere, the night clasps down

on fires, and glowing orange fibers

dance across your fingers

like elastic bands,

This was my favorite part.

Overall, great job! Keep up the good work!

zOe

well i loved this great job ^_^

he night clasps down

on fires, and glowing orange fibers

my favorite part. Nice job. Poetry is hard (at least for me) so you have quite a gift. Great work