She thought of it as taking
a chance: hanging pieces
of her life from a bush
in the shade in this tiny park
scenes from an album (of what
occasion, she wouldn't say
although it looked happy)
glossy prints bordered in white
two holes punched, loop of yarn
hung in a gallery of twigs
the same faces recur
in pairs, foursomes, a group
(her family or another's?)
she hung them unmarked and left them
snow fell in the night
one picture caught on a branch
lay flat, covered in white
the next day she saw it
she was torn between admiring
the perfect frosting of snow
and wanting the image revealed
a sweep of her finger would clear
it all away— or should she
uncover only half?
she grew nervous, not wanting
to be noticed, unable
to decide. Finally
she touched a corner of the picture
with one finger
the merest touch
that tilted it a little
the snow began to slide
she counted to three
and let go
3 comments:
Hey Joanne! I really like the first stanza set-up (although you could possibly drop the first line or tighten it up)
-- one thing I did notice was that you use the verb hang/hanging/hung quite a bit, maybe you could sub some other verbs in there?
The second stanza, I don't really understand what the dilemma is for her. There is a lot of telling going on "torn between...should she uncover only half?/she grew nervous etc." Can you show some of this with the body language or actions?
Like the way you end it where she counted to three and let go, it shows rather than tells that she is having trouble letting go but she is forcing herself to...
Very quirky.
This is different for you, I think. You got me hooked with your first lines - wonderful!! I first felt I was walking the Cedar Bog Trail, with art built for birds, complete with teeny weeny ladders to help them climb the trees. An amazing vision to find an art gallery in the woods. It made This piece very tangible for me from the start... with a twist, of course.
Thank you:)
Very engaging subject!
The questions "what occasion" and "her family or anothers?" indicates that the persona doesn't know the "she" of the poem - this decreased the intimacy for me as reader as well. Yet the persona seems omniscient about the subject's feelings at the same time.
I'd love some hint of who "she" is: a widowed grandmother nearing the end of life? An eccentric middle-aged artist? The desire to only uncover half a photo makes me wonder if she's recently divorced, or estranged from someone?
You use punctuation in spots and not in others.
I too am in love with the ending!!
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