Last night,under a pale autumn moon,
as we took our usual stroll
beside the beach-edge wavelets,
the gentle sea breeze reminded us that,
ere long, winter would return,
waves lick at the rocks. You feel the wind bite.
Author notes
Option #9
A contest entry
- Last Lines by Keith.
450 points, ended May 4, 2008, 33 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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Makes a nice, clear picture. I was going to criticis the change to present tense in the last line, but it's actually very effective. Well done.
The original poem is called WEST CORk and its by Giles Gordon, who died in 2003. Here's a link to his obituaries.
http://www.btinternet.com/~akme/GilesG.html
Unsurprisingly, there's no link to any of his poems, but here are the final three stanzas of West Cork:
When the sun has sunk they go, disappear.
So do the animals. The land empties,
is hundreds of shades of green, and vacant.
Did you imagine them, those that you saw?
Their houses have melted into the hills,
the smoke from the chimneys merged with the mist.
The landscape remains. You hear a dog bark,
seagulls squawk, fresh water gush through a stream,
waves lick at the rocks. You feel the wind bite. -
good incorporating
this has flashes of familiarity in ranges
the first two lines set the tone well of a regular place to relax with but also know signals by, or change of life to accelerate anticipation perhaps according to flow with last words. it carried an alertness, almost of family watching each other in reaction to time line of area. interesting.
it had a nodding rhythm,
babies are my subject
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