One Last Time
One Last Time
By Melissa Soule
Leland and Gray Union High School, Grade 9
Heartless, souless, icebound goliath,
Careening in blunted peaks towards an unhappily overcast sky,
Fierce, unforgiving winds whip the summit,
Tossing carefully plaited vermillion hair asunder.
A glowing golden sun slowly sets in a graceful arc,
Illuminating every sparkling crystal,
Giving the roving landscape two warring dimensions;
Warm light to dark.
Creeping shadow follows the disappearance,
A cold aftertaste to the meager glow.
Darkness gnaws its way up the mountain,
Devouring a winding path through the light in tandem with the departing sun,
Until naught but the greatest jagged vertex remains,
Bathed a deep titian, pulsing with a semblance of forgotten heat.
Suddenly, like a bird keying up for flight,
The scene shifts, the wandering shades blurring into a flickering passage,
Fuschia, ivory, sapphire, and deep emerald fir, splashed vigorously onto a soft black background.
Even farther in the distance, the rolling hills of icy aqua fly past, too slow to keep up.
Those same mussed braids, the same hue as the lost sun-painted sky,
Now whipped in a wind of self-creation.
Seeming to delight in their wild voyage downhill,
Whispering softly against your face, one with heart and soul.
This final journey of the season, cherished so close to last until the next year...
Reveling in snowbound flight, one last time.
You would really like. . .
...William Wordsworth. You and Wordsworth really extend the poetic line to wherever it needs to go. You also do a great job of writing images. Readers love those.
I never quite understood where the speaker was in relation to all the things described, or what those details made the speaker feel. I imagine it was cold, given the words "icebound" and "crystal."
Keep an eye on your spelling. Demensions = dimensions, and some others. Good work otherwise.
Peter
Thanks
Thank you Peter. I have actually read some of William Wordsworth's work, and though I can see how you would see a similar style in this poem, I'm flattered. I like to explore different kinds of writing when I work, and this descriptive style really worked for me on this particular occasion.
As for your other comment...Have you ever skiied? When I was writing the poem I think I directed it at the Vermont population it was published for, and so I focused more on description and less on emotion because it then gives the reader more room to lose themselves while relating to a familiar experience. Thus, each person can enjoy the poem in their own way. If you want specifics, I was picturing MYSELF on my favorite mountain at the end of the ski day when most people have retired inside, watching the sun kiss the top and slowly race me down as I make one final run down through the trees and snow.There are little details that people who know me would recognise, like using "vermillion" to describe my red hair. I love this time of day, and aspect of my home. So, if you live in Vermont and have not experienced this, you really ought to before its too late.
I've never skiied before,
I've never skiied before, not even after living in Maine for three years. Now that you mention it, I can sort of see where you're going with it. Anyway--the way you explained it in your response to my comments is much clearer than in your poem itself. I see what you mean about the Vermont audience, though I wonder if there were Vermonters who were unsure about perspective, even if they knew this was a skiing scene. Everyone's different, though. I tend to want my readers to get at least as much as I want to show them--and then they can, as you said, "enjoy the poem in their own way." Again, great work.
Peter