mist
is swallowing the village -
creeping down the pavement, rolling
along gutters and curling
under my eaves. the sun
is swallowed, the sky
swallowed, the world
is roiling grey
beneath my windows
and if I crack them open,
it will twist damp tendrils
around my fingers, flattening me
against the glass
until
my breath paints shadows
across the pane.
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
-
Reminds me of the sigourney weaver film
Gorrillas I have kissed... -
Very mysterious indeed.I loved your imagery.Should it be roiling or rolling?Well done on this write.
Jenny you have been Winkled
, Ros
-
Something in the place around us creates change and which spreads through to the individual, and touch and perception manifest this vast difference in the smallest most personal scale....so very well done...PK
-
I like it...
...it creeps upon me, like the mist, and it leaves me with a sense of mystery. In the beginning I feel a peaceful morning like I have experienced many times on the river. Slowly the mist creeps over the village, swallowing all before it like a blanket mouth.
The world claps it tendrils around me if I venture too far. I try to open up the cracks and look out...and I will be flattened against the pane, a false smile in shadows to think about life in this misty, foggy world.
The last few lines leave me in thought...[one good thing about an uncomfortable mist is that it goes with the coming of the sun].
Any poem which makes me think is one that I enjoy and you have done so. There is an air of mystery in your verse and I am left with questions to ponder.
I enjoy your free verse, the enjambment, which entices me to the next line and I like the emphasis of the word 'until' on a line of its own.
I think you have written a 'good' poem.
Richard
-
Wow, this poem does show the idea behind the word "smothered" very well. I love it. The mist motif is one of my favorites. The repetition is very effective in conveying your message and it relates subtly but poignantly to the title. In the phrase "sky swallowed", I like how there's somewhat of a confusion between the adjective and the verb... a misty phrase, so to speak
I'm not really fond of the "is" in "the world
is roiling grey", that is an unnecessary repetition.... perhaps "the world rolls grey" could flow better? Just my two cents I like how you go from a general image (the village) to a personal one (your fingers and breath). My favorite patrs were the first couple lines (love the rustic image, btw) and:
"it will twist damp tendrils
around my fingers, flattening me
against the glass"
Very nicely done. Jenny, you have been Winkled!
~Diana
-
This is a great poem - I could see the mist moving, and feel it damp, contrasting with my warm breath. I like the 's' sounds in the fourth, fifth and sixth lines, and /twist damp tendrils/ sounds wonderful read aloud. And the 'paint/pane' in the final two lines is good too.
Jenny, you have been Winkled!
-
This is delightful
delectable!
Your description is fresh and the actual tangibility of the fog comes through. We have one right now on our Range. Ron.
Jenny, you have been winkled!
-
Very interesting.
How sad that no one else bothers to comment. Where have all the decent people on this site gone to? Ah well, I'm here and I'll say something.
I don't know if it had been your intent but I read this swiftly. For me, it read better than if I tried to read it slower. I guess because the poem seemed like it was trying to move with the mist. If that makes any sense.
I found it engaging and I thought you made use of image nicely. A solid piece.
Adding your comment:
1 - 8 of 8
