![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Transitions
To live life like a pheasant
Scratching the earth in peace:
Until
The sound of the dogs promises
That the hunters are coming
And the targets
Shall
Fly
Fly
Fly
Tags:
To live life like a pheasant
Scratching the earth in peace:
Until
The sound of the dogs promises
That the hunters are coming
And the targets
Shall
Fly
Fly
Fly
.
From:
no subject
It is difficult to know what to say.
(I mean, certainly the text has the poem nature, but you knew that.)
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
Entirely fair.
From:
no subject
(Writing is hard.)
From:
no subject
Writing is hard, difficult, vexed, and cantankerous.
It's been a long time since I attempted anything poetic, but my general take might be that poems don't want to seem complicated, if that follows at all. Which is a trait they share with other pressure vessels.
From:
no subject
Or at least this one was.
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
They do that.
Your poem has provoked a half-stanza of (Modern) Old Lore Metre, which I put on mastodon because that way it is not stuck in my brain, so there's that, for what it is.
From:
no subject