Slopes
Slopes
In the slope out in the yard,
there is a deeper slope
whose uneven slide
stows eventide.
I would like,
like a child in active play,
to roll down its twilit side,
leaf my hair with strands of grass,
land in a spin of laugh.
But I am the child
who lies down
in that depression,
hiding from those
who would seek her
even as she waits for them to near.
We are who we are.
The house by that hill
that holds a hill
is brick-faced, eyed
with glass that, in the day, looks black
reflecting back.
As night falls, some windows turn,
like the gaze of animals, yellow,
while others glower
a powder
blue, ice floes
above the wine-dark lawn, the ground moon
of stuccoed patio,
and the world becomes a sea,
wave-troughed, while you, me–
what do we
become? We who are
what we are, we with
the contoured hearts,
the chambered darknesses.
***********************************
Hi. Sorry to be so out of touch! This is very very much a draft poem. I am completely unsure of the last half which I wrote many many different ways. I wrote it for Grace’s prompt about James Wright, posted a few days ago on with real toads.
Explore posts in the same categories: poetryTags: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com, manicddaily, night falling poem, poem influenced by James Wright, slopes within slopes, stowing eventide, we are what we are poem
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December 18, 2014 at 8:38 am
Well, I especially like the last half of this, beginning with the hiding in the hole, and the glower of powder blue. It is not just lyric, but deeply resonant. The beginning is more expository, which is a nice contrast, a lay-up for the chill at the end, which yet leaves room for a possible warmth, since ‘what we are’ seems both companioned and findable, at least by someone who makes a we of the I of one child. A great pleasure to read your poetry again, k, however ‘drafty.’
December 18, 2014 at 8:55 am
Thanks. I think it is more thoughtful there too–I had so many different approaches at the end–but at least here’s this morning’s version, and I think, honestly, the others may have been a little pat. Thanks again. k.
On Thu, Dec 18, 2014 at 8:38 AM, ManicDDaily wrote: > >
December 19, 2014 at 11:01 pm
I fall in line behind Joy’s comments ~
December 18, 2014 at 9:12 am
First I like the first part because the child you describe is someone that I know .. myself.. then that image of the house.
The house by that hill
that holds a hill
is brick-faced, eyed
with glass that, in the day, looks black
reflecting back.
To me this reflects so much into a past and into the present of the we of the last stanza.. so much to think of here.
December 18, 2014 at 11:59 am
It is a rare privilege to be allowed a glimpse of how a poet sees the world. This poem opens windows and doors onto the quietude of contemplation, the ability to see beyond the concrete and the gift to express the vision in words. Remarkable work, karin.
December 18, 2014 at 12:04 pm
Thanks so very much, Kerry, for your very kind comment and support. Sometimes we have to be thankful for our difficulties–in this case, I had an overly busy weekend and felt terrible not writing for a while, then kept scribbling parts of this but never had time to post, which probably ended up being good as improving the poem. (I hope!) Always hard to be sure. Anyway, thanks much. K.
On Thu, Dec 18, 2014 at 11:59 AM, ManicDDaily wrote: > >
December 18, 2014 at 5:49 pm
it is interesting…and a bit twisty at times….the hill holding hte hill stanza that bjorn points out in particular…we are who we are…does that limit us though from ever being something else? or are we a slave to ourselves
December 18, 2014 at 6:19 pm
A very good question. k.
On Thu, Dec 18, 2014 at 5:49 PM, ManicDDaily wrote: > >
December 18, 2014 at 7:34 pm
I admire the short verses, sliding skillfully from slopes to depression to house, to windows to sea ~ Love how the leaf is a verb, ground moon, use of mirror ~
Always a pleasure to read you K ~ Have a good week ~
December 18, 2014 at 9:03 pm
Thanks so much, Grace. I have done something for your wonderful bread prompt but not yet posted it. Hopefully, I’ll get it up sometime. K.
On Thu, Dec 18, 2014 at 7:34 PM, ManicDDaily wrote: > >
December 19, 2014 at 2:36 am
Your poem makes me think of the troughs of waves and the ocean that back yards–even those with eyes–become at night. And so the yard reflects the inside of those depressive types like me, that peak out of our hiding places but prolong hide-and-seek until the game dies. There is beauty in the entire scene, and in the lonely wise hermit stances of many of us at the bottom of the wave.
December 19, 2014 at 6:47 am
Susan–you have written a poem in your comment! K.
December 20, 2014 at 9:17 am
A good poem and a good questions.
December 20, 2014 at 1:40 pm
Hey Jamie–hope you are well! k.
December 21, 2014 at 2:54 pm
Oh, I like the last half, the way it fits, or echoes, the first half–the hearts with slopes of their own.
September 25, 2016 at 2:57 am
I love the gentle use of rhyme that gives the whole poem a childlike quality that fits the poem perfectly. Lovely.