Hi Sally,

This is clearly a very personal poem. However, being objective, I'd say the
best of it at present in in the first two stanzas with the others much more
akin to prose, very flat, and I think there are things you could do to
sharpen the depth emotion being expressed. Try for example not writing in
sentences and go for the images. I wonder too if the "telling" of the last
two stanzas make them absolutely necessary to the poem. Hope this is some
help.



bw
James




>From: Sally James <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: new sub The going away
>Date: Fri, 15 Oct 2004 22:11:16 +0100
>
>The going away
>
>
>Wrinkles tell the story
>folds of skin, fall in waves
>hang like a noose
>slack, around his neck
>
>Veins, no longer throb
>pencilled blue lines in
>the damp warmth
>of his lingering hand
>
>He held on, till the last tick
>till early morning clouds, paled
>his last goodbye, and love for me
>was the stroke of a finger in my palm
>
>Death took him, while I was away
>asleep in a day, when the night
>before, had been far too long
>He needed his solitude to leave
>
>How men hurt, with their going away
>and never coming back
>last whimpers, when I am not there
>to hold, and just be
>
>A life alone now, but with no regrets
>my last sad song, a silent tear
>for the one who went away
>did not die, yet is not here.
>
>
>
>Sally James
>
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