Wading (meditation at mid-night) -------------------------------------------
Wading through air-
The thick blackness of evening unfolds
I am a scorched sequoia- the roots which
Shoulder down into the sweet soil
And lick the sap of ancient stones
The black crow unfurls in caws and rattles
That pierce the fat inkwell of evening
Watch the tongue dip and scrawl
Dip-
and
scrawl�
Mysteries in hope of dawn
This reminds me a bit of romanticim. I like the imagery and word choice. I found particularly riveting "the inkwell of night". Howver, I beleive the word "fat" sort of spoils it a little. It was my favorite line but maybe you could change the word "fat" by "infinite" which flows better, for money and you add more alitaration to your piece which is always nice to have. Another, critique has to do with the line break in line 3. I reckon you could re-write it so as to make it flow better.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
- Robert Frost
Your "little ditty" reminds of a walk on the darker side of this poem; absolute darkness without the comfort, gentleness, or thoughtfulness that Frost intended in his work. Frost's work reflects a meditative frame of mind, while yours seems to dwell on either a vaguely troubled mind or one that has just discovered a hint of the evil that occasionally hides in the corners of the room.
Just some thoughts derived from your thoughts, JP.
Submission Name: Wading (meditation at mid-night)
