Hi Sally,
Thaks for comments and for attempting a rescue. I'll study up on them soon,
but the piece has annoyed me so it won't get the time of day for a little
while.
Cheers and thanks,
Frank
> Hi Frank, I haven't read what the others have said but to me it paints a
> very visual and atmospheric picture at first of a man possiblly a down and
> out walking in the early winter night but then the poem seems to change
pace
> so I hope you don't mind but I have fiddled a bit and omtted a few words.
> But I do like the picture you potray and I get a feeling for the
character,
> Just needed a little editting I thought. BW Sally
>
>
> >From: Frank <[log in to unmask]>
> >Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
> >To: [log in to unmask]
> >Subject: sub - change of seasons
> >Date: Mon, 19 Apr 2004 22:48:52 +1000
> >
> >change of seasons
> >
> >he dresses himself
> >in the first long coat
> >of the cool season
> >
> >the weather has fallen
> >the chill a drifting hover
> >above the ground
> >
> >gloves
> >a scarf
> >the knitted woolen cap
> >
> >the deciduous footpaths
> >a litter of brown leaves
> >the sky
> >fading finger-shadows
> >of bare branches
> >and disappearing cloud
> >
> >the first mist materialises
> >with each exhaled breath
> >as he walks
> >hands in pockets
> >along the streetscape
> >of new night
> >
> >he is (as) empty
> >as the feeling of the season
> >
> >~
> >
> >a bicycle flashes past
> >all yellow reflections
> >and strobe-light
> >
> >
> >the dog of indifference
> >sprays piss, paws the ground
> >oblivious
> >
> >at the corner the light peering down
> >is a loneliness he avoids
> >by adherence to shadows
> >
> >why does the man-shape
> >behind a glow of cigarette ember
> >dally against the fence
> >what purpose to its watching?
> >
> >move on
> >
> >~
> >
> >on the avenue of exposure
> >there are no trees
> >no cover
> >
> >here it is rapid steps
> >and following shapes
> >each drawn from the placement
> >of his feet
> >spreading out
> that point to each available direction
> >
> >there is no help here
> >
> >he expected none
> >
> >
> >
> >~
> >
> >his shoulders have slumped
> >the further he walks
> >the closer he feels
> >to the ground
> >
> >there is no comfort in these places
> >
> >above him
> >the darkness is complete
> >save for the twinkling lies
> >of faded representatives
> >
> >they do not assist
> >
> >~
> >
> >in the light of a shopfront
> >he draws his cap lower
> >stops to look at the gaudy collection
> >
> >vacuum cleaners
> >refrigeration
> >a compact disk rack
> >one silent wide-television
> >
> >
> >there is confusion here
> >
> >move on
> >
> >a vacant block is home
> >a blackened gutted shell
> >that once sold yellow
> >faux-leather divans
> >reclining lounge wear
> >
> >an eyesore still
> >
> >~
> >
> >his nostrils are uncomfortable
> >sensitised by the intake of cold air
> >
> >to wipe it would require
> >extraction of hand from glove
> >
> >he sniffs
> >
> >turns the corner
> >
> >there is no point
> >in stopping
> >
> >~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
> >
> >The Book of Evenings is now available for purchase online. Check it out
and
> >a review of the book on the Tales of Faust webpage at
www.talesoffaust.com
> >
> >While you're there, if you find something you like, take the time to
> >nominate a poem for a future publication by the Tales of Faust publishing
> >team.
>
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