Coming from a setting sun's day of work, carrying now only such thoughts of slipping below the horizon.
Opening the door to a bright little bustle that runs out into the old autumn glow, sweeping down the hill and through the tall grass, shaking the leaves on the trees and nudging the sun down.
Walking into the tiny little joy that is yours now was your father's before you and his father's before him. Putting your straw hat on the same old peg by the bricks, bearing the prints of forever and a day.
Sitting in the same seat. Still standing after such an eternity as an old man's somber smile. Still holding his head up high even if his eyelids can no longer stand another season.
Sleeping, finally, as though the moon had already risen high in the night sky; even if it's little stars continued their race around it, asking about it's craters and pockmarks, gifts from it's very own infinity.
Dreaming of a young man working on his own patch of land, his face dirty and his hands more so. Dreaming of a young man working on his own patch of land, his smile so bright that even the dirt shines up at him.
Dreaming of a young man working on his very own patch of land.
Who could take on such a task as tomorrow.
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Canary word: Present
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125,005 Literary Works • 672,804 Reviews
Hey StupidSoup,
Firstly, I really enjoyed the theme of time and continuity through the use of the shift between night and day, the seasons and generations of family. Also, some of the metaphors used here are really beautiful "gifts from it's very own infinity" and "bearing the prints of forever and a day" being notable examples.
As well as the fact this has a wonderful closing line that really unifies the whole poem as it closes and leaves the reader empathising with the man.
However, I did get a little confused who the young man was he was dreaming of, was it him in his younger days, was it his son?
Also, maybe clarify the fact he is a farmer earlier on, I didn't quite understand that until the third or fourth paragraph, this would be good as the reader will understand immediately and therefore can hit the ground running, which is great as it's such a beautiful piece of writing they can truly experience the images and messages you're conveying with perfect clarity and no misjudgement.
All in all, a well-written piece of work that's thoroughly enjoyable to read.
Hey, After Watch review coming to you
It took me a moment to realise what didn't quite work here but I think it jarred because this was so soon after "holding his head up high". The repetition was just a bit too close for the flow to be nice and smooth.
its
At first I wasn't certain that I would come to the end of this seeing it as poetry, but you actually manage to do this well. Something about the lack of verbs mean that I can sense no narrative here, which makes it very difficult to do what I was originally expecting to do, which was to tell you this felt like prose.
You give me some really pleasant images that set the tone of wonder. The bit about the stars really feels like the hope of youth, which when compared to the satisfaction of the old man gives a really good feeling of harmony.
Your last line is a lot shorter than the rest, which breaks the flow and gives it more impact. As a result, it feels quite like a punch. It makes it sound like this task is really difficult, and I'm left wondering if the hope will stay alive. I'm not actually certain if this is what you meant for me to feel, because you probably could take that line a couple of ways, but it's how I'm feeling.
I think if this is your aim, then my main suggestion is to use more of the senses in the first part of it. It feels like a memory, and memory doesn't only come in sight. Some of the most potent memories can be of smells, the easiest to recognise but the hardest to describe. Or sounds that you can play over and over in your mind, or something you might have touched that your fingertips ache to brush against again. I think this would make the first part much more emotive and thereby give the last sentence even more impact.
Hope this helps,
Biscuits
Hi,
When i first behold your poem, I thought it is a paragraph. But after reading this piece I felt that I read a poetry. You have done such a nice work, no doubt at all. But edit this poem and change its format, give it a poetry look. Poetry is not about only sounds or rhyming pattern it is about appearance also. Add some appearance to it. It will look elegant. It is such a hunky-dory poem end it with perfect finish. I will be glad to see it like a poem.
Albeit, It was about appearance. Now Time for main review, Poem is good(I told you). Your poem reminded me the poetry pattern of Markus Natten, Walt Whitman...etc. It is a good poetry for any poetry lover. Starting till end , it is fantastic. The title is also promising.
I am keen to read your work, further.
Keep it up. Good going.