Parker Owens
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Everything posted by Parker Owens
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I’m enjoying the slow, organic observations of Taggert. You are revealing his character to us and to Ash step by step.
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The form comes from George Herbert, if I recollect correctly. Or perhaps he was my inspiration. Hope you enjoyed our robins (they’re bigger and louder over here).
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Best time of the year, in my tiny opinion . Thanks for reading.
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You’re most welcome. I agree, the song of each bird in the chorus lifts the heart.
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The mourning dove is a late summer song here. By then, the Robins will have raised their broods and will be preparing for a journey south. The mourning dove deserves a poem of its own. Thanks again for reading.
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Thank you, tim. The morning chorus of Robins is a sound I wait for all winter. The form is fun to play with, so I’d like to try it again.
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Chirrup Cheerily The robin sings despite the rain when all the world is grey and plain and northern winds blow cold and drear to threaten snow and make our fingers glow, extinguishing all greening cheer. A better song you could not hear despite your list’ning all the year no matter how the winds may blow, that blest refrain is nature’s sweetest strain wherever you and I may go. Across the meadow, to and fro,
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A new kind of adventure is unfolding. I’m interested in the parallels between Chichi and Malik’s experiences. They provide ample food for thought and speculation. I liked the picture of characters in the story.
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They do.
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This poem will go up on my classroom door.
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The funeral scene was moving, as was Rhaelce’s grief. What does Rothik know? One can’t stop or detour to quiz the priest, who essentially signed Malik’s death warrant. But will Nyrra give chase? That seems inevitable, and then what happens when they’re caught? I’ll be watching for the next chapter.
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Let me add to the admiration for this poem, which spoke more and more deeply to my heart and experience with each line. You had me with the thousand doors standing open, and trying on futures like coats felt like it carried me away. Thank you for this.
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I may be inspired by this to write again. I have been so full of inertia lately, alone with thoughts that fail to make their way to a page. Thank you.
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Thank you very much for reading these. I’m very glad you liked them.
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Amen.
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You make me feel both desperation and anger, followed by emptiness. I think this is really interesting poem - betrayal and its subsequent choices played out.
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Oh, to re-create those golden, beautiful summers you describe! I was transported. The if only, if only, that follows is a melancholy counterpoint, as were the haiku that followed. Beautiful and evocative.
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I felt the cool grey sky pressing down on me, and the wind blowing on my face. Well done.
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Thank you so much for taking moment to respond. I really appreciate it.
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Now I’m supposed to go to sleep tonight. Not happening. I’ll stew over this chapter into the wee hours of the morning. Well done!
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Thank you, ever and again, for reading these. The seasons advance, and there’s nothing they can do but exist as they are. Why do so many human beings fuss over what another person cannot, and should not, change?
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Yes indeed. The red pencil, my smooth writing red pen. Or, for truly involved editing, a four-color pen.
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Thank you for the early post. I have now taken my cardiac medication early, also. Well done.
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Thanks for reading these and for your kind response.
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I shall be sure to come hear your band in my next life! Thank you for reading and for your thoughts.
