Thanks. Stevens’s “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” is probably one of the most imitated (and parodied) poems of the 20th century. His way number V is what I started with:
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
Since you had two almost pathetic fallacies involving smell, I stayed in that vein. My lines 2-5 also kind of work backward through the seasons, moving from more intense smell in autumn to less intense (or no) smell in winter.
And if someone connects breath and newborn in their mind, as in the sweetness of a baby’s breath, then good on ya as a reader.
She thought of the roses, felt the weight of Darren’s ring on her finger, remembered her dear grandmother’s final, whispered words: would it all be enough, she wondered, to pry sufficient courage from her heart?
That depends on the nature of a thought's superposition... :P
The mendacity of truth holograms.
A train of thought arriving at Victoria’s Station.
To be on board!
Made me laugh!
I do not know which to prefer,
the sweaty smell of olives,
or the sweet smell of rust,
the lilac’s breath
or newborn snow.
(after Wallace Stevens)
newborn breath and lilac snow--love how this works...
Thank you for posting your list, too!
Thanks. Stevens’s “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird” is probably one of the most imitated (and parodied) poems of the 20th century. His way number V is what I started with:
I do not know which to prefer,
The beauty of inflections
Or the beauty of innuendoes,
The blackbird whistling
Or just after.
Since you had two almost pathetic fallacies involving smell, I stayed in that vein. My lines 2-5 also kind of work backward through the seasons, moving from more intense smell in autumn to less intense (or no) smell in winter.
And if someone connects breath and newborn in their mind, as in the sweetness of a baby’s breath, then good on ya as a reader.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45236/thirteen-ways-of-looking-at-a-blackbird
She thought of the roses, felt the weight of Darren’s ring on her finger, remembered her dear grandmother’s final, whispered words: would it all be enough, she wondered, to pry sufficient courage from her heart?
Erin! I especially like the opening to this: "She thought of the roses." Yes.