Hello Christina,
                I found it difficult to get interested in the scene/photograph you describe here. I think the reason for that might be that I don´t know who these people are and I don´t find anything that universalises their presence. The main part of the poem simply describes a family photo and family photos are notoriously dull to others. Only at the end did I sense that the poem was trying to move beyond the specific scene captured in the photo to something that might be relevant to the reader. The phrase `centred, still smiling´ seemed to be trying to do this. I read the word `centred´ as suggesting that this world from the past was more stable, secure, understandable than ours. I´m not sure it´s a premise I would go along with though. I´m not sure if it´s  what you intended, either. It may not be intended as a universal comment. It may refer only to these two specific individuals, but then I´m back with the problem of not knowing who they are. 
There were some other things that I had difficulty with. The opening line is a puzzler (or I´m doing my simpleton thing again). I just don´t understand why it´s hard to see how innocent they were. And what kind of innocence? Do you mean lack of carnal knowledge or a more generalised innocence? How do you know they were innocent, or how should the reader know it? 
Another line that I wasn´t happy with was the `stones softened by the Sunday cloth they spread that summer´. Does a cloth really soften a stone? I think it would hide it from view in which case, in a photograph, how would we know that the stones are there?  What is a `Sunday cloth´? It suggests `Sunday best´ but presumably that one wouldn´t be spread on the ground for a picnic. Is it any cloth that is used on a Sunday? How do we know this is a Sunday? And why the time phrase `that summer´? `the Sunday cloth they spread that summer´ suggests that the cloth remained on the ground for the duration of the season. These questions disturbed my reading rather, though otherwise the description of the scene is vivid, but I did wonder what was the point of it.
I hope this doesn´t all sound too brutal, which is the danger, I know, with faceless communication. And there is always that vague possibility that I have stumbled through your poem from beginning to end with my eyes firmly and resolutely shut. It has been known, you know, in which case, apologies.



Best wishes,    Mike


--- Alkuperäinen viesti ---




            Couple (1930)

            It's hard to see how innocent they were:
            time settled a film of sticky dust on their image.
            It could be King George's Park or Wimbledon Common:
            thick trees, rough grass, stones softened
            by the Sunday cloth they spread that summer.
            He sits upright in his trunks, fingers firm
            on the curve of his calves. She's dressed,
            astride his shoulders, the shadow of her slacks
            like braces on his naked chest,
            the straight line of his parting extended
            by the buttons of her blouse. She rests
            her hands on the head between her thighs.
            They're like the tip of a totem rooted in soil:
            centred, still smiling.







            christina fletcher