[Michael Juster]

Mother, Summer, I


My mother, who hates thunderstorms,
Holds up each summer day and shakes
It out suspiciously, lest swarms
Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there;
But when the August weather breaks
And rains begin, and brittle frost
Sharpens the bird-abandoned air,
Her worried summer look is lost.

And I her son, though summer-born
And summer-loving, none the less
Am easier when the leaves are gone;
Too often summer days appear
Emblems of perfect happiness
I can't confront: I must await
A time less bold, less rich, less clear:
An autumn more appropriate.

[RCL]

I like the poem, but it doesn't move me much. On a technical note, why does he insert that "the" before leaves in S2? It breaks the VERY regular IT (excepting the trochee in 1, not really a sub).

[Alan Sullivan]

RCL, I think he elides "easier" into two syllables, in which case the line can be read as a regular one.

I am curious why Mike posted this poem. Not quite in Larkin's first rank, I think; but it has a sharp edge, as Larkin usually does.

Strong initial trochees at 2,7&13 give this poem plenty of metrical heft, when combined with skillful manipulation of secondary stress. It is not all that regular. Its rhythm has an edge too.

I like the repetitions, counterpoint for the unexpected phrases like "grape-dark clouds" and "bird-abandoned air."

Alan Sullivan

[Richard Wakefield]

As often happens in the work of very accomplished poets, the stanza break here suggests a lot but insists upon nothing. The mother's apprehension about summer -- okay. Then a pause, and the first thing we learn about the son is that he was born in the summer (and that he's "summer loving")...And the last thing we learn is that his outlook is gloomy and finds a better counterpart in adverse weather. To me the poem has to do with a relationship that expresses its complications indirectly, through feelings about the weather. Not such an unusual thing among us circuit-loving humans, but expressed here, appropriately enough, indirectly.
Richard

[Len Krisak]

Richard, dead-on comment.

Alan, the same; those two trochees
are close to being brilliant, I think.
My only reservation lies in that "is lost." Almost any action verb with some juice or charge in it would be better here--the "is"
almost kills the first part.

Beyond that, I respond spiritually and emotionally to this poem AND I think it's just one tiny cut away from being terrifically good. There's HEFT in those
epithets that Alan mentions!