[Aaron Poochigian]

The Jitterbug

Wherever they took the three of us that night –
some place that had a jukebox or a band,
a VFW hall, a gym – has darkened
and narrowed, leaving in an oval spotlight

their sudden holding hands, their drifting through
a blurred crowd, and now their parallel
spins and matching kicks, how they fell
right into it, hopping in sync, how they knew

how to do it all, even her sweep
beneath his legs – old skill resumed with just
a song they both recalled, some wordless trust.
This little glowing cameo I keep

of my parents, that moment they were stars
one night when they forgot their quiet wars.

[Aaron Poochigian]

I love the play of memory in this poem and how the parents’ “wordless trust” in the dance eclipses, for a time, “their quiet wars.” The off-rhyme “band/darkened” in the first stanza evokes my favorite off-rhymes in Larkin. It is interesting that, after the intentional vagueness of the first stanza, the rhymes turn true as the image focuses. We then get off-rhyme again for the jarring final line. The memory/cameo is so effectively portrayed that the reader feels as if he/she had been there.

[Catherine Chandler]

The DG is right. After reading this sonnet, it was as if I had been there, too, watching N's parents letting go of their cares and worries, caught up in the frenetic swing music. It's evident the poet cherishes this tender memory, this cameo appearance, as it were, and we're left wondering about the private wars, and what may have transpired once the music stopped.

The instances of slant rhyme and the jumpy, bumpy rhythm reflect the dance itself, and the absence of a single volta is perfect for the swirling throughout.

I think some of the language could possibly be heightened, tightened, such as the phrase "how to do it all" in line 9, which takes up three feet that might otherwise be put to better use.

[Roger Slater]

Now we're talking! Yesterday had me worried a bit, but this is the real thing. Fine sonnet.

[Susan McLean]

This is elegantly done. I like the arc of it from slants to true rhyme and back again, and the way the enjambments keep the movement fluid through the dance. The mystery of who "they" and "the three of us" are is gradually resolved even as memory's spotlight remains on the parents.

Susan

[Julie Steiner]

I love it, too. I especially like the double meaning of the title (a jitterbug being both a dance and a nervous person--the narrator seems keenly aware that such occasions are only brief cease-fires in "those quiet wars.")

[Rick Ferris]

I love this.

[Simon Hunt]

Memorable and well-turned. However, the meter seems at times to lurch a bit for me rather than to swing. Likewise, some of the slant rhymes are really slant. Too slant?

[Martin Rocek]

There’s a lot going on here: N’s special memory with the loss of detail and perhaps accuracy set up in S1, N’s parents’ memory of better times evoked by a song, their underlying connection that endures through their “quiet” wars—a lot to pack into 14 lines. Still, I think there are a few weak points—in S2, I’m bothered by “now” and the inversion L12-13. But with a bit of buffing, I’m sure that this multifaceted gem can be polished up.

[Tim Murphy]

As Auden once tactfully said, "I fear I am not yet worthy of this poet."