Summer's End

[Kelly_Sprout]

Summer's End

Near summer's end we saw him one dry day,
Alone, bent low, with slow, unsteady walk,
And clothing worn in worn-out disarray,
Come shuffle past our lives at two 'o clock.
And so in whispered titters we would mock
His gait and clothes and gnarled hands stained like ink.
"Pathetic begger! Wino!" went our talk.
"He's lost his self-respect," we dared to think.
Too deeply wrapped in sorrowing to shrink
In shame, he shuffled lost within his plight.
We did not see his tears well to the brink
Nor hear the sobs that racked him. Late that night,
With hoary head hung low, and at her side,
His hardened hands held Summer's as she died.

[Kelly_Sprout]

I should have stated, I suppose, that I like receiving comments. It doesn't matter to me if you like what I post, hate it, were bored and unable to finish it, want more, have suggestions, write a literary analysis, mock it, or just say, "Hi, I read your stuff". You can be kind; you can be vicious; you can be superior; you can even be blase. None of it offends me and all of it is interesting to me. Please, if the spirit moves you, please comment.

[kathycf]

One teeny suggestion: I hope you won't think it presumptious....



And clothing worn in worn-out disarray,

Perhaps: His clothing in worn out disarray or

His clothing, ragged and in disarray

for line 3, the word worn used twice (even though it means 2 different things each within its own context) seems a bit 'off'. We know his clothing is being worn by him, so stating that is redundant, the real fact of the line is that the clothes are worn (worn out) and in disarray. This says something about the person.

One can glibly assume that his shabby messy clothes are because he is a "bum" but the reality is more that people overwhelmed by grief are not very interested in dressing sharp. I think you make some interesting observations on how often people really do, (if you will pardon me for bringing up this old chestnut) judge a book by it's cover.

[Kelly_Sprout]

Thank you, kathy, for your observations. I'm glad that you are perceptive enough to see why I made the descriptions I did. As for the line, this poem follows the strict constraints of a sonnet which requires Iambic Pentameter or five beats of lowSTRONG stresses. I gnawed on that line for quite a long time trying to make it conform to both the strict constraints and pleasantness to the ear. In the end, I settled -- somewhat of a compromise, really -- for the line you see in the poem.