In 1977, I think, Wilbur wrote to me to criticize some sonnets, saying, if I remember right, "When I was your age I was accused of going for the killer-diller last line, and I get the sense that these English sonnets were written backwards, their final couplets being their starting points."
Well, he was right. Long, long ago Frost said a poem couldn't be written backwards, arguing that if there was no surprise for the writer at the end, the reader would fail to be engaged. I happen to disagree with Frost, because the discovery of that couplet can be such a surprise, that the writer can surprise himself all along the way. Here's a poem you helped me with. Because it starts with an actual quotation, it is obviously written backwards.
Unposted
Abandoned where the grass grew lank and damp,
the antiquated grain drill seemed a toy
some Lilliputian farmer might employ
to plant a field small as a postage stamp.
Kelly opened a hopper filled with seed
nutty and sweet as Wheaties in the bag.
Where were the plowman and his plodding nag
to run that good grain through the metered feed?
Flushed from a pigweed patch, a pheasant sailed
over the leafless tree row flecked with red
where shrunken apples hung unharvested
or fallen to the stubble, lay impaled.
Squinting into the distance, Kelly said
“It was the farmer, not the seed what failed.”
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