Sunday, April 12, 2015

All Afternoon

It was evening all afternoon.
                            --- Wallace Stevens

It was evening all afternoon,
so I worked at the craft that calls me.
No blackbirds outside,
just robins lying of spring
and the swing of the sun.

I thought the piece
fit to release the hounds
upon the heather.
But my weather eye had gone blind
from my scratch
at the red dirt I come from.

For Grace's prompt at Real Toads

21 comments:

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

And I really like this one! :)

Björn Rudberg said...

I think the spring brings a lot of lying harbingers... great write :-)

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is so atmospheric, with a winding in and out of here and there, the immediate and the imaginative.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Wow. I can feel the weight of the afternoon and the swing of the sun. Just wonderful.

Sanaa Rizvi said...

The poem holds alot of depth and meaning.. :D
Loved the imagery.. vibrant and full of life...!!
Agreed with Sherry, I too can feel the heat of the afternoon sun :D
xoxo

Grace said...

The ending was unexpected, with the weather eye going blind ~

Thanks for linking up with Real Toads and wishing you Happy Sunday ~

Olivia Jade said...

This is amazing. I know exactly what kind of afternoon you're talking about ... a free one, with which you can do whatever you like (write a poem, of course).

I love the second stanza. It seems like you thought the poem you were writing was great at first, but then you changed your mind. I'm picturing you missing the signs that a storm was coming. Since you had written your poem in dirt (probably about your own "dirt"), the poem was washed away when the rain came.

There's great loss in this, ending with the pain of feeling like you come from nothing and are nothing. Like all your efforts are useless. Even your eyes, which maybe you've scratched out yourself. "Scratch" can also mean quick writing or starting from little to nothing.

ccchampagne said...

I really feel this one, somehow... The tone is very clear and concise, but still poetic. Wonderful write!

Grandmother (Mary) said...

I like that this reflects Stevens but also the atmosphere of your home place.

Fireblossom said...

I like "the swing of the sun".

Have you ever heard Emmylou's "Red Dirt Girl"?

Gillena Cox said...

a very feminine mood, that swing of the sun, yeah!!!

have a nice Sunday

much love...

Ravenblack said...

This is familiar to me. At first a poem would seem alright and then the more I work at it, the less I feel right about it. :)

Debi Swim said...

just robins lying of spring
and the swing of the sun.
Yep. I'm not going to try to torture meaning from this poem but just enjoy the images.

Outlawyer said...

Hi MZ--beautiful sounds here, and the heaviness of effort in the face of this evening all afternoon very palpable--how we try. Thanks. k.

The Bizza said...

I loved the attention given to detail here.Really good.

Susie Clevenger said...

I hate the times spring lies. I remember the red dirt of Oklahoma well. As always you fit so much into your few words.

grapeling said...

damn. that red eye - mine from dirt and soap, tonight. but still blind ~

Sumana Roy said...

I wonder to what music was the sun swinging :)Red Dirt?

hedgewitch said...

Sharp as the nothing that the snow man sees, and cold as an empty spring--every word is on point, and this is probably the poem most unfalteringly Stevens-like in spirit written to this prompt, says the connoisseur of chaos.

Buddah Moskowitz said...

Such a scene you've created. Great read. - Mosk

Magaly Guerrero said...

"just robins lying of spring" Love this line. Perhaps because it was true of New York City these last few weeks. We had birds (not always robins) singing outside... while the terrace was covered in snow.