[Nick McRae]

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.

----------------------------------------------------------------

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

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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
--------------------------------------------------------------------

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.

[Carl Copeland]

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.

[Paula Fernandez]

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.

[Glenn Wright]

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.

[John Boddie]

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.

[Roger Slater]

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."

[John Riley]

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

[Nick McRae]

Originally Posted by Carl Copeland

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.

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.

[Nick McRae]

Originally Posted by Paula Fernandez

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.

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.

[Nick McRae]

Originally Posted by Glenn Wright

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.

Originally Posted by John Boddie

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.

Originally Posted by John Riley

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

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