To Jane, Far Away
by
Wayne Thomas
(Age: 60)
copyright 06-13-2008
Age Rating: 10 to 127
The smoky sunset's fading now
Across the neighbor's woods,
A twig- fractured moon,
A planet to be named later,
A pair of candlelight stars,
Hitch up their belts
To assume a brief new glory.
For just an instant
I catch myself dreaming--
A familiar face,
A familiar touch,
A familiar voice.
The just now placid waters
Of Raritan Bay,
Caught for a moment
In the fading half light,
Waters, stretching all the way from me
To New York,
Shimmer like ice on a skating pond.
Around me, people melt over the dunes
As the bonfire turns to embers.
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I liked this one very much. I agree mostly with Franks analysis. ~ almost surrealist, haunting,
bittersweet. Each line a beautiful image.
It's good to read you again,
Beautiful...just beautiful...everything was colorful and deeply written. It was almost as if you were sitting, looking at the veiw as you wrote. Thats how I write often, just get inspiration from nature.
It was a beauitiful, kind of painful, deep emotion...all in all, a beautifully written peom.
You always do a great job of using places to evoke particular emotions, Wayne; but I don't think this one is quite as smooth as some of your others. I think this kind of poem needs almost a liquid flow to capture and carry the reader along with you. Longer lines, softer sounds, smoother transitions from one line to the next. Still, you made me feel what you were saying -- and that's the important part.
Wayne: First of all before I could absorb and enjoy your poem to the fullest I had to discover Raritan Bay. Totally foreign to a South Texan. I found it between New Jersey and New York. The name is associated with ancient Indians who enjoyed in their own way the embers and stars and beauty of a star-lit night. I felt you missing Jane in that evening setting, so it was a bit painful. Thank you for the poem. Dale
What I like about good poetry is the ability to form it in ones own needs. This could be made to say many things. For me it was the coming to the end of a life. The turning to embers, caught for a moment in the fading half life. For me She is gone and he is remembering the days of old.I really like this piece. Anthony
This write has a nice, ethereal quality about it. Very often like the seemingly mystical memories that float in an out while watching a fire burn down. You used some very nice imagery, and the word choices all supported the movement from the opening to the ending.
One line, however, struck a discordant note. With me at any rate. ^^ The line, "Hitch up your belt", seemed inconsistent with the rest of the write. Leaving some lines without a beginning capital, but not others, when the punctuation was almost requiring it, can be left as "writer's choice."
Welcome !
