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The Usual Picture

Quiet dawn.
Snow snores through the black nostrils.
Alder cones are scattered all over.

A few paw-steps. Something urgent
forced the animals out to gallop and dive back
in a warm coziness of dens and burrows.

Weed-stalks tremble, what is left of them.
After the storm, wind is still strong.
In the tangled thicket, empty feeders swing and turn.

Only one figure is on her route
to leave another flower to wilt on her bench,
to say another word to her late lover
and quickly come back.

Cold feet. Warm blanket.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
How was my language use?
Editing stage: 

Comments

"snow snores through the black nostrils." love the poetry. have missed reading people's magical descriptions as I've been away for a short time.

Welcome back, and thanks for reading.
Black nostrils are when snow melts in dark spots :)

IRiz

author comment

I start reading...
....
....
...
...and resurface after that timeless interval all good poetry steeps me in.
Excellent poem.

Respectfully, Jim

"Laws and Rules don't kill freedom: narrow-minded intolerance does" - Race-9togo

http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/Race_9togo

Thank you! What a wonderful complement!

IRiz

author comment

the beginnings of a snow storm here. I was going to ask "black nostrils" of what? but you answered that already. Just thinking that the average reader isn't going to know that. Maybe you could re-phrase your portrayal of the animals jumping back into their warm burrows? It sounds like they were forced out of their burrows to gallop and then dive back in. How about; Something urgent in the wind, drove the animals back to their warm and cozy dens? What is left of the weed stalks tremble? Just ideas, your to use if you wish. ~ Geezer.
.

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Critique or comment today!

Hi Geezer,
Thank you for reading.
Counting for an average reader to understand your poem is counterproductive.
I appreciate your help, but what you suggested would bring the emphasis on "something in the wind" , which I don't want.
Your understanding of the poem is not complete. The main focus is the last stanza,
a figure who is the first to appear to visit the empty memorial bench of her late husband.
It is not a piece describing snow after the storm.
Black is used for many reasons, perhaps to underline its melting, to hint on the lack of permanence.
The animals are mentioned to draw a parallel with human, what made the figure to leave her home and visit that bench?
They run out and return, she says her words and goes back to everyday life ---- it is a usual story.
Real feelings, drama of life are never loud, and usually conveyed by small details.

Although often superficial, your reading is still important to me. Thank you for correcting my English and providing yet one more humbling experience. It is hard to write a poem that doesn't yell and curse but is intended to shake.

Sincerely yours, always happy to read your words, Irene

IRiz

author comment

are never meant to humble. How trite and trivial I have made what is obviously a meaningful work to you, sound! I only meant to say that the way you phrased it, it sounded like something had routed the animals from their warm and cozy burrows, and I wondered what? ~ Geezer.
.

Comments and critique are a vital part of our community!
Critique or comment today!

Primary instincts for them and love for her and in both cases it is a restless instinct to live and relive

IRiz

author comment

a good beginning and touching finesse to this short documentary with a fine script..made me think if "The Bigger Picture" could have been the title...
........................................................................................

raj (sublime_ocean)

Thank you Raj,
For thinking and trying to help.
The bigger picture is a standard frase I am trying to avoid in my poetry.
The word usual in the title implies the everydayness, the apparent simplicity of a real unique passion.
Thank you for reading again.

IRiz

author comment

I live in snows for six months
have plenty of black snow
slipped often
but
black nose ala nostrils
wow what a comparison
poetry is this
now hence forward
I shall only read
my mind has since aged
indeed

Whatch your steps,
I still want you to read my next scribble.
What do you think about the ending of the poem?the last stanza?

IRiz

author comment

ruskee devyuska
watch not ....

a wilted flower can pierce the heart
nice write!

Thank you for your visit.
Glad you liked the poem.

IRiz

author comment
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