I wish someone had told me about
spring. The light still comes as
a surprise, dripping down the leaves
I do not remember ever being this green.
There are songs on the radio I should
know, that bounce against the windows;
rolled up, with behind them the road that runs,
tireless, under our wheels. I have seen these
places already. When we stop there is our old
house; spiderwebs stretched over my bed, and
a lingering sound of tiny mouse feet across
the worn floor.
There are cherries on the tree, red as the
sunset behind the hills. I tell myself they
have been waiting for me; that the birds
were kind enough to leave them untouched.
There are stars in the sky at night. But I am
still waiting for a glint of dark eyes under the
brush; for a doe to run across the dirt path in
the dying evening light, and for her to look at me,
and say Welcome home, in a scuffle of fragile
legs over white pebbles.
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Rawr. If I'm not such a slacker as I am right now, this will soon be getting a review from me. Be scared. (But not really, because I'm me.)
Jagged, how is it you always seem to write the most impressive of pieces?
There’s something very powerful in the way you’ve used such basic language to paint such lovely images. There's actually just one little line that I kind of wanted to pick at:
This is the only spot that I really thought felt clumsy. Something about "there is our" feels very uncomfortable and it rolls off of the tongue just as uncomfortably. I'm not completely sure how you would word a change but I think it would be beneficial.
Otherwise, Jagged, I cannot say anything negative about this poem. You have a masterful way of taking the most otherwise forgotten descriptions and describing them, like Baywolf mentioned about the way you described the doe's legs as a "scuffle of fragile/legs over white pebble." I also really liked the line "a lingering sound of tiny mouse feet across/the worn floor." There's something about it that really grabbed my ear. It's a very interesting and very eye-catching way of writing about this.
If you have any questions, just leave a note on my wall.
~lilymoore
Hello Jagged!
This is a beautiful use of imagery. I love the last two lines about the doe's legs scrambling across the white pebbles. Often people concentrate mostly on the eyes--as you did--or the flash of the white tail, but to include the legs and their seeming fragility is a nice touch. I don't really know why that part really stuck out to me, but for some reason it did. I appreciated it. Haha! Lovely poem. I don't have any nitpicks.
Happy Writing!
Baywolf
Wow... The picture painted here is absolutely beautiful... I like the words you use, they are so suited for this. I do think that this should probably be a narrative poem, not a lyrical piece. But all in all, a very good piece of work.