Letter to Em

[FranktheFrank]

I tap on my keyboard as if one day you will read
this note and be reminded of times we spent
together when you were young and impressionable.
I don't really understand how friendship can endure
in thought for so long. I know you remember me still
although distance, events, and time has overtaken
all that we had, and all we have left is this.

I wish I could walk with you to the river bank again,
your small hand in mine, you excited in anticipating
a chat about nature, animal kingdom and how
the universe unfolds as it should.

We would look over the pond, you would wait patiently,
knowing I would speak about fish hiding in the foliage
among the water plants. That they would scoot out
to snatch a fly and you would ask me why. I would say,
"Well they like flies, that's why." And the why's would come
like mown grass flying in the breeze. I would continue
to answer your questions until you were satisfied.

You would let go of my hand
to drape it lovingly across my shoulder,
and we would set there a while, content.

[meenas17]

The walk to the riverbanks bring back memories. The reference to holding the hands , the fish plauing ing hide and seek, and the questions put forward , "Why do the fish scoot out, the reply the flies like that way, sound frivolous but at the same time reflect the intimacy.N and his friend engage in such talks for a while.

The last stanza,

You would let go of my hand, then drape
it across my shoulder, and we would set
there a while, content.

One could see a fulfillment in the relation.

Meena

[FranktheFrank]

Thanks Meena
I am expecting more great poetry from you this year
keep going on.

Happy new year.

[Bernie01]

Frank---


love the close. tender, sweet and yet adult.

now, the opening:


I type as if one day you will read
this note and be reminded of the times we spent
together.

write seems more personal than type, just saying.

the next four lines, prosaic, a little flat:

I don't really understand how friendship
can be like this. I know you still remember me
but, distance and events, even time has overtaken
all that we had, and all we have left is this.

the next lines don't work for beans, for me.

I wish I could walk with you to the river bank again,
you holding my hand because it was our time together.
We would look over the pond, you would wait quietly,
knowing I would speak about fish hiding in the foliage,
among the water plants. That they would scoot out
to snatch a fly and you would ask me why. I would say,
"Well they like flies, that's why." And the why's would come
like mown grass flying in the breeze. I would continue
to answer all your questions until you were satisfied.

characterize the speaker and the woman, let me see them---feel---them, maybe comment on their common small town origins, their stated ambitions, their experimentation with a first cigarette half-smoked, carefully stubbed out and drowned in the river, sometime falling silent and always comfortable with the company each felt for the other.



You would let go of my hand, then drape
it across my shoulder, and we would set
there a while, content.


the ending becomes more poignant, yes?


difficult poem, remembering the past---a past that contains an almost sacred moment with another person, almost before each observer is to inexperienced, to innocent to fully u understand.

i think of Proust as a child, waiting with such devotion for his mother to come and offer a good night kiss.


bernie

[FranktheFrank]

Thank you Bernie

[Bernie01]

i think this masterpiece italian film (a dozen US newspapers say) contains a letter writing sequence.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rk5mVCU7C9s

[FranktheFrank]

Thanks Bernie
I enjoyed.

[BobBradshaw]

I agree....the last stanza is filled with warmth

[FranktheFrank]

Thank you Bob.

[FranktheFrank]

Bernie
The following quote shows your unstinting interest and service to poetry
and your deep understanding. You have nailed it in one and so well said.
This poem has been with me three years and at last it is finished, not with
a fanfare but a whimper, so glad it has been said. It can never be brought
back, there is no future in it, everything moves on, a worm may get the scent
of it as he devours a part of my brain when that day comes. There is nothing
more to be said, it happened, it was real, it was splendid to be loved. I have
written a poem about a moment and now it is done.
Thank you.

difficult poem, remembering the past---a past that contains an almost sacred moment with another person,
almost before each observer is to inexperienced, to innocent to fully u understand. I think of Proust as a child, waiting
with such devotion for his mother to come and offer a good night kiss.

[BobBradshaw]

The poem needs trimming a bit....I am suggesting something simpler, along these lines maybe...

I tap on my keyboard as if one day you will read
this note and be reminded of times we spent
together when you were young.

Remember the pond? How patiently
you waited, as I spoke about fish hiding
among the water plants…scooting out
to snatch a fly…you asked me why.

"Well they like flies, that's why." And the why's came
like mown grass flying in the breeze.
I answered your questions until you were satisfied,

and you let go of my hand
and draped it lovingly across my shoulder…
we sat there a while,
content.

[FranktheFrank]

Thanks Bob, great ideas.

[Bernie01]

Frank---

please, no giving up on a poem. the deeper, the richer and more vital the harder to give birth.


i have never hesitated to hold poems, ruminate, garner comments, read, change, probe---maybe i find the path....but it is the trying that declares our worthiness for the original emotion.


bernie

[FranktheFrank]

Yeah, I get you Bernie, with you all the way.
Thanks very much.

[capricorn]

Hi Frank,

This is a personal poem, full of emotion. The revision is an improvement, but I feel a bit more trimming will make it shine. I like Bob's suggestions, but you must be sure how you trim back so as not to lose the original emotions.
I agree with Bernie - never give up on a poem. Consider it with care.

Eira

Last stanza

You would let go of my hand
to drape it lovingly across my shoulder,
and we would set there a while, content.

Is it your hand or hers that she drapes across your shoulder. I feel it should be

You would let go of my hand
to drape hers lovingly across my shoulder,

and should it be 'sit' in the last line?

[FranktheFrank]

Thanks Eira.

[Damoms69]

Thanks to you both for bringing a double IBPC recognition to the Writer's Block

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