Autumn and Leaving
 

Rev. 2 (for comparison)

You Will Leave Me in Autumn

I feel the summer's end, the weeping grasses,
          the dried willows, the ponds of August,
          conversation echoing from gardens, through
          the dust of fireworks, through dry, frigid air.

I feel the summer's end, when you will leave me.
          When wind turns to a crimson sky, when rain
          courses through November. You will leave me,
          morning's laughter echoing through our past.

I feel the summer's end, when you will leave me.
          When the grasses wither, when the night heron
          makes its final call. When this summer's fluttered
          gold, when the warmth of this life, will end.

I feel the summer's end, when you will leave me.
          When our child has gone, when his child has
          been born. When the sun treads its course into
          new life, into new days, beyond the horizon.

You will leave me in autumn, when the ponds of August
          run dry, when fields of gold reach summer's end.
          You will leave me in autumn, your memory etched on
          a country road, your memory reaching its resting place.

I feel the summer's end, when you will leave me.
          When you will leave me in autumn.

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Rev. 1

You Will Leave Me in Autumn

Summer's end is nigh, the weeping grasses,
          the dried willows, the ponds of August,
          conversation echoing from gardens, through
          the dust of fireworks, through dry, frigid air.

Summer's end is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When wind turns to a crimson sky, when rain
          courses through November. You will leave me,
          morning's laughter echoing through our past.

Summer's end is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When the grasses wither, when the night heron
          makes its final call. When this summer's fluttered
          gold, when the warmth of this life, will end.

Summer's end is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When our child has gone, when his child has
          been born. When the sun treads its course into
          new life, into new days, beyond the horizon.

You will leave me in autumn, when the ponds of August
          run dry, when fields of gold reach summer's end.
          You will leave me in autumn, your memory etched on
          a country road, your memory reaching its resting place.

Summer's end is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When you will leave me in autumn.

Rev: The end of summer is nigh -> Summer's end is nigh
Rev: A life of -> morning
Rev: travels -> treads
Rev: grown -> gone
Rev: morning -> morning's

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Original

You Will Leave Me in Autumn

The end of summer is nigh, the weeping grasses,
          the dried willows, the ponds of August,
          conversation echoing from gardens, through
          the dust of fireworks, through dry, frigid air.

The end of summer is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When wind turns to a crimson sky, when rain
          courses through November. You will leave me,
          a life of laughter echoing through our past.

The end of summer is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When the grasses wither, when the night heron
          makes its final call. When this summer's fluttered
          gold, when the warmth of this life, will end.

The end of summer is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When our child has grown, when his child has
          been born. When the sun travels its course into
          new life, into new days, beyond the horizon.

You will leave me in autumn, when the ponds of August
          run dry, when fields of gold reach summer's end.
          You will leave me in Autumn, your memory etched on
          a country road, your memory reaching its resting place.

The end of summer is nigh, when you will leave me.
          When you will leave me in autumn.

Rev: Autumn -> autumn
Rev: Night Heron -> night heron
Rev: summers -> summer's
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Full disclosure as I post this one, I don't intend to do too much immediate workshopping of the poem as I can't overstate how little time I have, and how hard it's been to fit critiques of my poetry into my schedule. That being said, I'm mainly interested in impressions of this one, and will do my best to reply to those who respond.

This is a poem that I started in 2019 or 2020, and have been tinkering with since. It's not quite in the style I'm writing in now, but I'm invested in it, so curious how others can tear it apart.

Thanks in advance.

This is haunting, Nick—not least, I think, because of the musical repetitions. Also, setting the leave-taking in the future somehow heightens the poignance. I wondered at first about the archaic “nigh” instead of “near,” but after you repeated it a few times, I found that haunting as well.

A few odds and ends:

You don’t need to capitalize “autumn” in S5 and S6 or “night heron.” I’m not sure why the latter is so often capitalized on the Internet, but you wouldn’t capitalize “nightingale,” so …

In S5 and probably S3, “summers” needs an apostrophe.

There’s probably more you could do to vary or jazz or slant or trim the language, but others are better qualified to give you that kind of advice. I felt this poem.

Hi Nick--

The first thing I'll note is that as I read this, I strongly felt that it was written in the voice of a woman. Then, when I looked to see the author's name, was surprised to see "Nick", which is likely male. This made me wonder why some poems feel "feminine" or "masculine" in tone. This poem, for me, gave me the sense of a speaker who feels quite loving, powerless, and vulnerable. I suppose I associate this complex of feelings more with women than men. I suppose this says more about me as a reader than it says about your poem. But there it is... I felt this to be a very feminine poem.

The poem has great lyric energy. I'm almost a little sorry that it gives away a hint of underlying narrative in the lines about "our child" which firms up that the one speaking is likely a spouse losing their partner. Almost I want to just have this be a poem about the inevitable loss of all dear things in due time.

The strongest bits/images for me were in the first and third stanzas: "dust of fireworks" and all of "When the grasses wither, when the night heron
makes its final call. When this summer's fluttered
gold, when the warmth of this life, will end."

There were a few places that felt insufficiently aspirational in their reach for language and images...
"a life of laughter echoing through our past" and "When the sun travels its course into new life, into new days, beyond the horizon" both feel trite/over-worn.

But overall, the impression was quite strong and the emotional content really came through. I enjoyed this quite a lot. Thank you for sharing your work.

Hi, Nick—

It is interesting to me that Paula heard the speaker as a feminine voice. I heard it as a masculine voice. The poem seems to invite the reader to hear it in his or her own voice.

The first two stanzas seem to be about a separation, perhaps but not necessarily permanent and catastrophic. In stanza 3 it becomes clearer that this separation involves a death. In stanza 4 we see the speaker and the partner as grandparents, and it is clear that the speaker is imagining the partner’s death with final acceptance and resignation. The imagery moves from plants, weather, ponds, and birds to the sun’s cosmic journey beyond the horizon. Very careful and effective use of repetition and variation. Fine work.

Nick - This is fine work - a piece that gets better with each re-reading. I became more aware of the repetitions that are seemingly effortless, of the music that is found when reading it aloud. It's well beyond my ability to create something this good. Thank you for posting it.

Have you considered "Summer's end is nigh" instead of "The end of summer is nigh"? Purely a subjective judgment, but to my ear that would sound a bit better, tighter but a bit less formal at the same time to offset the self-conscious formality of "nigh."

I agree this is good, Nick. Seriously good. Congratulations.

Carl, thanks for the reminder on autumn and night heron. This is something I've run into before on another poem, and had someone point out the same, but I missed it on this one. As for the possessive apostrophe on summer, it seems like I need to brush up on my possessive rules. In this case I was considering it a stylistic choice, but it was also a response to a comment on my last one that it's can be written as its. Maybe this doesn't apply to nouns? A part of me likes the poem better without the apostrophes, but the incorrect punctuation likely just distracts.

Thanks Paula, the feminine comment is an interesting one for me as this poem was directly inspired by Eva Cassidy and a line in I Know You by Heart (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crUm-v6o-0s). A few years ago I was listening to her album Songbird on repeat, and at one point the line 'You left in Autumn' hit me and demanded a poem. Some of the poem's lines also take inspiration from Cassidy's rendition of Fields of Gold (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9UVjjcOUJLE). IMO, the poem improves with either of these songs in the background.

I appreciate you pointing out which lines work / don't work for you. Some of it's superficiality is something I've picked up on myself, but I haven't been able to pinpoint exactly what I want to change. So your suggestions will give me a few lines to narrow in on. At one point a few years ago I tried to 'deepen' the poem, so to speak, but I found that it's musicality was superseding the superficiality. Many of it's lines are rhythmic choices, so it'll be interesting to see if I can replace the ones you mentioned with something less superficial, but that still sing.

On the whole I'm still not entirely happy with it, which is why I posted. There's something about it that just feels off to me. In my head I'm envisioning an entirely different form, with a more haunting, deeper approach. But maybe the issue is that I'm invested in this form now, and just not that interested in re-writing it.

I also hadn't thought of making it a more generic poem, not aimed at one's lover, so thanks for that. This was indeed written with my wife in mind.

Thanks all for the kind words and perspectives. It's helpful to know that it's coming across well.

I appreciate the suggestion. My read is that 'summer's end is nigh' sounds more formal, but I do like it. I'm not sure I could or would want to choose between the two, but it'd make for an interesting alternate version. And the more I think about it, I'm wondering if it does fit closer to my vision of the poem. I'm going to take this edit and sit with it for a while.

Nick, there’s still one capitalized “Autumn” in the poem.

Possessive “its” is an exception in Modern English, like “hers,” “ours,” “yours,” “theirs.” Otherwise, all singular possessives are formed like “summer’s” (as in your S5). “Summer’s” can also be a contraction of “summer is” or “summer has” (as in your S3 and like “it’s”). “Summers” without an apostrophe is plural, and the plural possessive is “summers’.”

Proper nouns ending in “s” can also be an exception, but that’s more frequent with Biblical/classical names: “Moses’ wife” or “Moses’s wife,” as you like.

I even found a reputable-looking site that recommends “Arkansas’ capital,” which strikes me as ridiculous: without the apostrophe, you don’t pronounce the final “s,” so why should an apostrophe add an extra sound? Same thing with stuff like “François’ hometown.” I don’t think so.

Luckily, your editor will clean up anything you miss, so it’s no big deal.

I'm not sure what the etiquette is on bumping a revision, but I managed to make a few minor changes this morning for anyone interested in taking a look. I'm hoping to spend some more time with it later on, but it could be a few days (or more).

Good tweaks to a poem that was already very good. What I love about it—and I’m repeating myself—is the music. I think if I read it without being analytical and came back later for a second reading, I wouldn’t find it. Because I’d be looking in Met. It’s that musical.

Do you know Henry Taylor’s “At the Swings”? No one would mistake it for metrical, but your poem reminded me of it somehow. https://www.ablemuse.com/erato/showt...t=henry+taylor

Thanks for the comment and poem. I'm not totally sold on the use of morning, but I like the two others. It's a bit of a puzzle trying to find more descriptive words that fit, but that still retain the rhythm and feel. I wish I had more time to look at it, but shockingly it does look a little closer to my vision now, so I'm glad I posted it.

And I have learned something new here, which is that I can (and should) level up syntax and recognize when I'm using lazy word choices and phrases. I didn't see these ones until Paula pointed them out.

I like it, Nick. As Carl says, it has a haunting, yearning quality that deepens through the repetitions. I don’t really like “nigh” at all, and don’t see much reason for the archaism. What about “I feel the summer’s end” as a refrain?

I feel the summer’s end, the weeping grasses,
the dried willows, the ponds of August,
conversation echoing from gardens, through
the dust of fireworks, through dry, frigid air.

I feel the summer’s end, when you will leave me.
When wind turns to a crimson sky, when rain
courses through November. You will leave me,
morning's laughter echoing through our past.

etc

Not that it proves anything, but there's a wonderful song by John Prine called "Summer's End", which may be why my ear gravitated to that phrasing as the more musical and less formal. Here, if you're interested.

Ah, I like that one too. Lesson learned, every part of the poem is changeable. Before posting this I wouldn't have thought to change that line, as I like the original quite a bit.

I'm going to throw up another revision for comparison.