Snapshot 01 March 02006

The mantle clock has stopped.
It balks at the key. Its pendulum

swings, and stills. Grey sky enfolds
our mountains. I burrow further down

into this soft bedding. What holds me
up in this universe of space? A stopped

clock, a dark moon, a mirror reflecting
an empty room. This star lights my day,

and these, my long nights. Moon, dark moon,
come out from our shadow. Moon, I miss you.

Comments

[Cathy]

Excellent!! Did you purposely shape the poem like that?

[Erin]

I love your snapshot poems. A discipline I am thinking of adopting, for Lent. Which I recently learned means "lengthen."

Are you sure this one doesn't end after "room"?

[SB]

Cathy -- I didn't; the line breaks that seemed right took me there -- but I'm not happy with its shape.

Erin -- I'm not sure! I'm not even sure where it starts. I'm not at all sure about the grey sky.

But I'm sure that the weekly snapshot is a good discipline.

[Dave]

I like the first three couplets a lot; the opening is especially strong. The ending doesn't do it justice, though - sentimental, dangerously close to cliché, IMO. (If I didn't love your work so much, i wouldn't venture to criticize!)

[SB]

Hey, please venture!

I may post a rewrite of this soon. I did get a bit whimsical there at the end, didn't I?