[Marion Shore]

POSTCARD

A glint of sunset on a waterfront
largely devoid of ships—a blue expanse
of water and the same old famous skyline—
a scene that is and isn’t what I want
to see tonight, or to experience
with seagulls, dogs, and joggers. Past the shoreline
of stunted plants and patchy grass, the water,
the closest thing to everywhere there is,
moves sluggishly away, its complement
of floating trash as well. And what’s the matter
stays obvious, the linkage clear as this
impassibility, impediment
of miles of waves and storms sequestering
me from you, this land from everything.


In general my feeling is that a poem should be accessible, if not after one, then maybe a few readings. For me, this poem was the exception. My first reaction was: "WTF! This is a sonnet?" Plus, I've never met an unrhymed sonnet I liked. But there was a certain something about the piece that made me go back for a second, a third reading… And the more I read it, the more effective and affecting I found it.

The title immediately sets up an irony – although we don't necessarily expect to see "wish you were here," the bleak descriptions that follow are not exactly what you'd expect on your average postcard!

The first line, "a glint of sunset on a waterfront" starts out with an image we might well see on a postcard. But we soon learn this is a waterfront "largely devoid of ships" … The "blue expanse of water," "the same old famous skyline," express the disillusionment and alienation the narrator feels in the midst of this apparently attractive tourist spot. "It's a scene that is and isn't what [he/she] want[s] to see." Apparently N. came here already burdened with malaise (perhaps to escape it) which colors (or rather, drains of color) his/her perception of the surroundings. Instead of being part of the liveliness, the seagulls, the dogs, the joggers, N. sees "the stunted plants and grass" "the sluggish water with its complement of floating trash" – and "what's the matter" is expressed in the concluding lines: "the impediment of miles of waves, the storms sequestering/me from you, this land from everything."

The power and expressiveness of the poem are achieved not only by the stark, bleak imagery, but by an underlying structure that is, despite my first impression, quite tight and formal. And yes, my dear DG, as a matter of fact, it does rhyme – subtly, to be sure – the rhyme pattern is unconventional, as are the surprising rhymes – all of which give the poem a tightness, a structure, a cohesiveness, which is no less effective for its subtlety.

And, strangely enough, the sentiment "wish you were here" is expressed in this postcard, which the addressee, one supposes, will never see.