So much looking forward to reading yours! Here's mine; any comments welcome. Just a note: this should all be one stanza, but Blogger sometimes wants to add white space before the last line when I copy and paste. (Has anyone else had this experience? And if so, do you know how to avoid it?) Oh - and wanted to let you all know I'll probably have to make my comments this month relatively brief since I'll be away some for work. Thanks, and happy Feb.! Kasey
The Tree Inside
To draw the tree, I closed
my eyes. There: redblack
glow of the inner lids where
the sapling’s outline swam.
Girl Scout camp, ten years old, the tree
a child too. One hand held
the pencil and the words
behind my eyes dissolved
that whole time I held
the tree inside. How long? I couldn’t
say. Only that it was years
ago. And that it must have
been spring. Tender leaves, nearly
transparent, starred each limb. Later
real stars bloomed, the night
sky one shade paler than
the forest’s dark, and exactly
large enough. I remember
I wasn’t afraid. Today the tree
might be tall, or crowded out
by others in that woods, deprived
of light. Little girl,
where are you now?
Tell me what you love.
Kasey, this poem is inimitably yours. It has delicacy and wonderful flow. The enjambed 'I remember/I wasn't afraid,' is so poignant-- perfect. I love the way "that whole time" sounds like a child speaking through the speaker. I love 'reblack glow' and the image of the sky one shade paler than the forest's dark... The image of the tree is so universally resonant... (Jennifer H's poem above!) and appealing... I only wonder if there's more to be teased out in the specific case of your poem. I am of 2 minds about the last line. The first time I read I thought- "Wow! Kasey strikes again!" It just hit me as perfect. And then on subsequent readings, I felt this less-- as if it that line can only really work once. What do the others think? I hate to sound so oddly nitpicky-- the poem really is very lovely.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking of this poem again as I hurry out the door-- I can easily see it as an opening poem to a collection, without much change at all. Sometimes, I wonder whether I expect too much from any single poem... How does everyone weigh this? A single poem and the amount of context it needs? Esp. when sending out poems for publication... I have many very short poems that perhaps make more sense in a bigger grouping.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, V, for these comments - so thoughtful and helpful! And I love the questions you raise. I'm going to start a separate thread beginning with those questions, because I'm not sure everyone will look here. I've been thinking it would be nice to start some conversations (for folks to participate in - or not! - as they have the time and inclination) and your comments make a lovely place to begin.
ReplyDeleteHi Kasey, Thanks so much for this poem and sorry for my late reply. This is a lovely poem with so much richness. I want to respond directly to some of the points that Vasiliki brought up: I, too, loved the last line but also wondered about it upon second and third reading. I think that for me it maybe explains too much? That is, I think that the poem already shows what the speaker loves and that that's inferred? I also wonder, too, about the imperative "tell me," when the poem begins with drawing/reference to the visual. So I wonder how the poem would read if it ended with something like: "Paint me what you love" or something equally image driven. I'd also be very curious to see this poem a bit longer and then also a bit shorter. So, if you were to choose the 4 most important moments in the poem what would they be? If you were to expand the poem to twice its size, what would it look like? I've mentioned this before and I think it would just be interesting to explore.
ReplyDeleteSuch a tender poem, Kasey! This part really stands out for me:
ReplyDeleteTender leaves, nearly
transparent, starred each limb. Later
real stars bloomed, the night
sky one shade paler than
the forest’s dark, and exactly
large enough. I remember
I wasn’t afraid.
A sense of connection/everything being all of a piece, "the tree / a child too," pervades this poem. The last three lines can be addressing the narrator OR the tree. As a synesthete, I love the approach to the drawing of the tree -- to close the eyes as to really see (feel) the tree. "There: redblack / glow of the inner lids where / the sapling’s outline swam." Gorgeous! I also love how this poem fits into the landscape of your December poem, Kasey. Looking forward to your next poem!
Thank you all - such great comments. Shannon, no worries! Anytime we can respond is perfect - I'm grateful for yours.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Kasey. I found myself really drawn to these lines:
ReplyDelete"...the words / behind my eyes dissolved / that whole time I held / the tree inside." Wondering what it means to 'hold the tree inside' - I'm not sure I want explanation, but I am enjoying that the poem brings me to wonder about that. And the fact that holding the tree inside makes words disappear - again, I find these lines almost perfect, so I don't really need explanation, but I'm wondering what words are disappearing, whether it's all words, and what that really means. To weigh in on the last line, it felt a little heavy to me, especially right after, "Little girl where are you now." Both of those lines feel like bold moves in the direction of saying what the poem means; I'm wondering if the poem would end a little more lightly if they were combined. Good luck!