Hi Arthur,
I really like the simplicity of this poem! Straight statements that set the
scene (and don't need any effulgent adjectives to put me, as a reader, where
you want me to be!). That's what makes the 2nd stanza so powerful for me
(where a phrase like "atlantic reaches," and how you describe the way the
light works across the distance, really works so powerfully!).
I sense the weakest line is "to remember the desolations of before"
(because, if you're remembering - they have to be "of before"). I'd consider
getting rid of "of before" and, if you think that leaves the line feeling
too empty (in comparison to the rest, and with the rhythm you've
established), it may be possible to give something (else) that refers to the
location (or other information about the scene). But, I guess, another title
- a longer title, may also do that). The "of before" bit is the only untight
thing - and, in my mind, the whole poem loosens so many feelings and
thoughts.
all the best,
Bob
--- Arthur <[log in to unmask]> wrote: >
> > January.
> >
> > Here at the year's turning, the darkest time,
> >
> > earth stunned with cold,
> >
> > birds fall unheeded in the night,
> >
> > the fountain's tongues are stilled,
> >
> > snow drifts into corners of the yard,
> >
> > I seem now at the end to which I've always moved.
> >
> >
> >
> > I look back across
> >
> > the bleak atlantic reaches of my life
> >
> > to remember the desolations of before
> >
> > but see only the sunlit miles
> >
> > of snowfilled shires lie fulgent
> >
> > in the long low winter light.
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