The Brownlings' Day
The buds of Spring are opening-
unsure and virginal, a vibrant hue.
Plush carpets spread below broad skeletons of trees
as the breeze blows away the chaff of Winter.
Not much remains, now, of the season past,
as life returns to the Verdant Ones.
Theirs is the beauty of the sun -
theirs the briefest hour,
the colors loved by all.
Soon, again, they all become Brownlings,
but today, the Brownlings lay dying.
No preamble today. Many thanks for the comments thus far - almost a week gone in this little project, and thus far, I'm quite satisfied, and have a few ideas of things that I'm going to work on and try to perfect. Some nice workshopping ideas are coming to me.
Looking through much of the past writings, I've noticed that a lot - too many, I think - of my writing centers around "I". Not just the experiential part of the poem, but "I" actually appears in much of my past writing. I've never bothered to really look at most of what I've written.
Today's was written last week, anticipating this month of writing. I hope you all enjoy.
Thanks for reading.
The Fat Kid
1 comment:
An interesting poem. The first several lines feel rather formulaic, laying out fairly standard spring imagery. My interest was piqued at "the Verdant Ones." The rest of the poem after this skewed the expectations set up by the first half of the poem. Lines 7 and 8 reminded me personally of something that might appear in some 19th century text set to music by Vaughan Williams or Howells. And of course, the last two lines provide the final twist, a perspective through which to look back at the whole poem. I liked how this poem finished a lot better than it began, how you began with convention but then departed from it, whether consciously or not.
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