An American Sentence
The Frost Giants are streaming north / perhaps they fear the red-winged blackbirds.
Winter’s Slow Retreat
Krater Café
Words and Images by Richard Reeve
The Frost Giants are streaming north / perhaps they fear the red-winged blackbirds.
<3
🙏
As a rule, I believe the “American Sentence” form preposterous in concept and generally precocious in practice. This, however, delightful in it’s imagery, abstract but firmly rooted in what every kid who spent late winters and early springs in swamps and swales understands of the clock of life. Well done, this.
(fyi, will continue to be preposterous and precocious here! 😉)
Please do not misunderstand. It seems every would-be poemetricist [or prose practitioner] out there, eager to display creative muscles to readers [that they may stand in awe] explores every “form” [sometimes ineffectually] demonstrating thus, their intellectual prowess. I care little that you [not specifically you] call something a “boodad doodad” with quirky [and often arcane or arbitrary rules] but do appreciate excellent composition, imagery, and message. It [for me] is a form/substance battle. Care little for the form, truly appreciate the substance. I’ll say it again, “this well done.”
I did not misunderstand, no worries. I hate forms as well. Just using this daily practice to sharpen the limitation lacking in my current work. Peace.