london walking (empty streets)
the rain fell heavy
clinking against the abstract sculpture
in broad fanning waves.
south bank, separated by the somber thames
st. paul is steeped in fog.
mist and rain make the north side a grainy
faded photograph, almost timeless.
the bridge that spans the two halves
is iron, dulled beneath the weight of the weather
as if the atmosphere has pressed the scene and muted
every color. in a city so busy and populated and vivacious
i walk through empty streets. as if the weather has caused a rash of disappearances.
the streets are empty and lonely.
walking through the financial district,
past closed offices, banks, stately and ominous government buildings
there is a sense of closure. but it is only temporary, only now.
closed for sunday. there is something calming about the whole scene,
things resting. the empty streets are silent, but i understand what they are saying.
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Author's Note
this is a first copy of a poem that I wrote. I'm trying to mostly capture the way I felt. It could use some revision, but I wanted to hear initial responses.
First, quick impressions: good tone throughout. I believe you are successful in capture the mood of the day.
Quick suggestions: "almost timeless," I feel weakens the image by using a negative ("almost") as a tool of definition. I find it best to define things by what they *are* not by what they are not (or almost are).
"busy AND populated AND vivacious"
I think some kind of compression of above adjectives would be good here instead of stringing this out (which only serves to strengthen this reader's awareness of Telling instead of Showing).
"the streets are empty and lonely." I believe this goes without saying and can be cut.
"but i understand what they are saying."
Aren't they simply saying that it's Sunday (already stated) and everything is closed? I think you'd like this line to carry some sort of mysterious meaning in order to anchor the piece as a whole, help it earn its keep as a poem, but in that, it only comes across (to me) and a striving for deepness that is not there.
I feel there is a good, strong poem lurking here.
Good stuff. Great ending. "Things resting" - yes! Get's my vote. *
thanks for the solid advice. It needs work (and I was a little too into the whole conjunction scene).
Thanks for reading. I always appreciate thoughtful feedback.