View From the Window (Edit 2)

[Marion Poirier]

(Thanks Leo, David and Maggie for the input)

View From the Window


Three days she slept
until the great blizzard ended;
then, rising from bed
she viewed the aftermath
from a window near the sky.

She wiped the glass
and gazed beyond a wall of snow;
humanity trudged single file
in the street between slopes,
puddles and slush.

Her mind turned to a singular thought.

He appeared as though by magic,
summoned by her silent call -
slender and lithe - a feather
floating towards the sun.

The discreet wind
carried a kiss on his fingertips
to the open window
like a promise.

Days passed -
stillness settled in the walls.

She drifted to sleep
between pink silk sheets;
he returned

and faded again.



Marion Alice Poirier

[mfwilkie]

Marion,

I like what I'm hearing in this draft.

Want to give it some thought. Back at ya.

Maggie

[Marion Poirier]

Maggie, I realize that this is one of those poems
that only the author may know the intent - in fact,
this conclusion has come to me very recently.

The poem seems incredibly superficial -
but there is an intent under the layers;
it's something one has to experience - or know.

Perhaps, I should put this one aside
and post another that is more easily relatable.
I'd love to have your assessment.
Thanks,

Marion

[mfwilkie]

Whatever intent was, Marion, the draft works well.

I'm mulling a few technique suggestions.

Wouldn't want the voice or tone to change.

Maggie

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Hi Marion-

I think this is stellar work, and I have a thought for you on S1.

Three days she slept
until the great blizzard ended;
then, stumbled from bed
to view the aftermath
from her window near the sky.

Could you say--

Three days she slept
until the great blizzard ended;
then, stumbling from bed,
she viewed the aftermath
from her window near the sky.

[Marion Poirier]

Thank you, David, for the read and the suggestion;
also, for the encouragement. I wasn't sure if this
poem was working or not - kind of off-beat- but
with a purpose.


Re. changing stumbled to stumbling - gives me food
to think about - don't think that stumble in any form
is the best word after you brought this to my attention -
makes her sound like a drunk - or druggie -
that's not my intent. (space shot, maybe)

What about the gerund police who cringe at the
ing words? I must admit that I have
been brain-washed (for my own good) and seldom
use the dangling participle. I am going to think of
another word to replace stumble,

Thank you, David, for calling my attention to this -
very much appreciated.

Marion

p. s. changed the verb to rising. It's okay
to have a few gerunds - like other parts
of speech, should be used sparingly in free verse.

[LeoVictorBriones (poetremains)]

I like this narrative poem quite a bit. It's best characteristic is its mystery. I think there are moments in the poem that slow the mystery and reveal too much. For instance:

a small consequence
compared to her obsession.

we don't need to know this...let the reader figure it out. It's surprising when you do.

kiss on fingertips...one I think this is too cutesy for this poem, two so obvious (bordering on cliche(...whay not just say mouth and let us decide...

then:

his essence returned

essence seems way too abstract and why not just...he returned...by now we know he is a ghost of a thought.

Nice poem.

Thanks.

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Good change, Marion.

I'm actually not a card-carrying member of the gerund police, so you won't hear that complaint from me.

[Marion Poirier]

Leo,

Thank you for your good suggestions.
I agree on all counts. I shall revise after a short
mental health break.

Thanks again.
Marion

[David Nelson Bradsher]

Hi Marion-

I agree with Leo that the obsession line may be giving away something that doesn't need to be disclosed, but I see no need to nix the kiss from fingertips. I don't think that qualifies as a cliche; it's an action, and an action that could easily be.

[mfwilkie]

A thought here, Marion.

The discreet wind
carried a kiss from his fingertips
to the open window
like a promise.