Washburn and First, third house on the left

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Critical Analysis #2

Washburn and First, third house on the left

Scarlett ties
New Member

since 2006-03-09

Posts 1

0 posted 2006-03-09 09:23 PM

She sat at the brocaded window seat,
Stared out to the streets, and waited.
She loved to people watch, it was her game.
The way the same person could be so dynamic,
Like they all had different lives under the orange and red drapery.
As it drooped down and floated gracing little kids on their cheeks
They scooped up the leaves and hugged them dear.
Their mothers call out; the children run home, leaves
Raked and burned, frost descends upon the yard.

She watches without fail, the flakes intensify her game.
Tiny dancers left to the wind, they meld and
Find places to start lives.
Soon to be built into an army of winter men
Delicate and formidable, they stand proud.
Yet warmth and wetness call,
As the Rain falls, encompassing the cold.
Dragging it down to the sewers,
Colonels lose rank and nations lose strength.
She constructs a tomb in her mind for the deceased.

She plays her game and eyes the brocade
Until the people bustle about.
How the drops set up new scenes!
It’s fragile hands create a strange but fantastic
Jungle of umbrellas, polka dots and stripes
Poke out through the canopy
While the Lovers poke out from their
Once endless hibernation and they celebrate
By kissing in the streets.
Driven by the desire to engage in a moment
That so many have written about, or
More simply by the spontaneity of such storms.
The bare trees blossom their elation,
To see such compassion in this hurried world!

Yet still she remains, imagining her elation.
Even though she sees such compassion in this hurried world.

She truly wishes she could leave her seat
Join the people in the streets, and kiss her lover
At the intersection she’s followed so closely.
But she is too afraid to take it, and Chance moves along.
So she watches and waits hoping someday her picket fence
Will be built, and her children will jump in the leaves and
Maybe she too will make little men in the yard,
Playing a new game that isn’t so brocaded.

Not A Poet
Member Elite

since 1999-11-03

Posts 3885
Oklahoma, USA

1 posted 2006-03-10 09:33 AM

Hello Scarlett and welcome to CA. This is interesting to be sure but, to me anyway, it reads more like the introduction to a short story tan a poem. I'm not qualified to give much advice on free verse but I think the answer would be to cut down on the wording andsay it more metaphorically. As has been said over and over, "Show, don't tell."

Pete

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