Sarah Whittaker hadn’t seen her husband in five years. Six months after their child was born he slipped his weathered pack over his shoulders and declared he was headed to the city to find work so his little girl could have everything he hadn’t. Sarah watched through tears as his form disappeared down the path that connected their cabin to the rest of the world. That had been the last she had seen or heard of Mr. Whittaker. Sarah waited patiently for the father of her child, but as months turned to years, she had to admit that he wasn’t coming home. It hadn’t been easy raising a girl on the frontier alone, but Sarah had done what she needed to do to make sure they didn’t go hungry, not all of which she was proud of. It was a cool day when she met Lieutenant Greg Barclay. She sat on her covered porch, tea in hand, watching as the fall leaves drifted from the trees making her long for the colors of the Northeast fall she remembered from her childhood...
I really liked the structure and imagery you've presented here. Moving from poison to honey emphasised the softening, the dripping. Without the title though, this poem has a very broad scope. I didn't read the title initially and I was torn between reading this literally ( someone was being poisoned -- homicide or suicide) and metaphorically (someone's cruel words were coated in honey). It'd be cool to tweak this a little to see if you can convey the alcoholism without the title.
ReplyDeleteI liked this. I was going to say the same as Asha, without the title the poem might not have had the same meaning. I have struggled with this too, the 6 word format is way harder than it looks.
ReplyDeleteI loved this piece. You’ve described alcoholism beautifully in a few words. I especially like the contrast between poison and honey.
ReplyDeleteGood piece and done well. I liked how you brought honey to indicate alcoholism dripping like poison.
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