Wyeth, Andrew. Christina's World. 1948. Museum of Modern Art, New York City.
The Meadow
Green grass and a grey horizon,
the meadow awaits
movement.
A distant home offers
hopes of the past
as the girl crawls
forward towards inevitability.
With each movement the
house moves closer.
Clawing her way through
the lush green,
hopeful she remains.
But with every pull the
hill grows steeper.
With every motion the
horizon grows dull.
With every breath the
grass grows greener,
And with every effort
the house becomes null.
I like your focus on the journey, rather than the woman or the home itself. Your description of the landscape removes the looker further, as if we can do nothing to help the woman in her struggle. Your poem brings up as many questions as it does answers. Why is the woman crawling? Why is she so desperate to get to the house? Does severe weather play a role? Again, I applaud your brevity. You certainly know how to finish strong.
ReplyDeleteI agree with what Emily said about how you focused on the journey of the woman rather than the setting or her personally, albeit for a slightly different reason. I think this poem functions very well as a social commentary, as the journey could be representative of more than just a woman literally crawling through a field. As members of society will we all go through depressing, drab, and generally uninspired journeys of our own? Your poem seems to suggest so, and I find that to be creative and well done.
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