Ethan

[douglas]

Ethan

I do not wish to continue this conversation
He said
Well then don’t
He stood up
Walked over to the window
And looked at the stormy sea outside
I watched him closely
Looking for a sign
Anything
But he was still, silent
I rubbed the smooth arm of the couch
And slowly stood up
I could feel the flush of blood
Reaching my lips and cheeks
He turned and looked at me
Then quickly looked back at the ocean
The wind picked up
As I poured myself a scotch
In the imposing silence of the room
It began whistling through the cracks
Between the window frames and doors
Why don’t you say something he mumbled
I looked at a photograph
Running my fingers through my hair
Sighing quietly as I stroked the golden frame
The telephone rang
And I waited for him to answer it
He didn’t
I didn’t
It stopped
The sky was slowly clouding over
The light was ochre
Touched with gold
It was a beautiful afternoon
There was a distant thunder
I walked over to the couch
And sat down again
Crossing my legs and then uncrossing them
He was still at the window
I don’t want to lose you he said
I knew he meant it
But I was numb and could only think about
How good my scotch tasted
How comfortable the couch was
How nice his new shoes looked
Lying there on the carpet
I didn’t answer him
Instead I thought of my childhood
Thought of my past
And of heartbreak
I stared through him
Could almost see the waves
That I could hear
He left the room
I stood up slowly
And walked to where he had been standing
I could smell his fragrance
I looked at his view
It was melancholy
Like us
The water was becoming turbulent
In the strong winds
The clouds imposing and dark
I could feel that I was about to cry
My chest was so tight
My whole body tingled
And yet no tears came out of my eyes
In fact, they felt very dry
I could hear him in the kitchen
Could smell the lemon and ginger tea
He had made himself
Why was this happening to us
I thought
Finally allowing the reality of the situation
To fully enter my consciousness
And then he came back into the room
I know you probably won’t believe me
But it was impulsive
It meant nothing
I didn’t mean to do it
It just happened
That’s all I can say
It’s done
It’s done
Those two words echoed in my head
Over and over again
Yes, it’s done
I finally answered
I could feel my heart constricting
As I said it
Felt my tongue tighten
My mouth become very dry
I almost wanted to swallow them back
Into myself
But I couldn’t
He came up behind me
Put his warm hands onto my shoulders
Pressing his chest into my back
I’m going to leave now
He said
I stared through the window at the dark storm clouds
I didn’t say anything
He picked up his keys
And walked towards the door
I felt him hesitating
But he left
And it began to rain

[Gatekeeper]

This progresses nicely, Douglas,

until the end

and then

"klunk"

the last line . . .

Sometimes we write one too many lines

maybe thinking that the reader won't get it

or that we have to finish it ourselves

so conclusively that there is no doubt

as to the intent of the lead up

Give you readers a break, Sir,

they can figure it out

it is obvious

or it is not
either way you need to leave it up

to your readers to finish it the way they think best

What to do?

Drop the last line.

It need not be said

no, it must not be said

It ends the poem where a poem should not be ended

it must go beyond the door

beyond the leaving

beyond the "rain"

which can have many meanings

and in the penultimate line, drop "as"

and make it your last line

and the poem will leave the reader

in motion

[douglas]

Thank you Gatekeeper - you are absolutely correct! thank you for the objectivity. Yes!!!! I will change it immediately... ;)

[David W. Parsley]

Hi Douglas, I did not see the poem before you made the changes recommended by Gatekeeper. But what you have now is visceral and vivid. One of your best.

 

- Dave

[Tinker]

Looking for love poems for my blog on Thursday and ran across this one of Douglas' that I found stunning.  Not what I was looking for to use on Valentine's Day,  the end of love and therefore won't be using it. But I'm bumping it because I think it so good.   So painful.  So well communicated.    Where is Douglas?   Haven't seen him writing for a while.

~~Tink