The October Days
The October Days
by Jessica Bixel
You are lost and I
am young. Again.
to meet just here.
Between days. Between
milkweed snow falls
at the end
of summer. Fishscale
seeds float slow
and white. Brown too.
I canâ€™t wait to build
a house of leaves. I
canâ€™t wait for you to
leave. Again. Lost.
like it belongs to you.
Like I wanted it.
0 thoughts on “The October Days”
Great ending. I love to kick off a month with a poem about the month, et al.
I would appreciate this more if the author had referenced a derivative poem in the interest of rehewing it, and making it her own.
Instead, she has attempted to rewrite what already worked beautifully (and predictably, failed).
With my interest in this poem, I am struggling to understand what you mean. To me, your comment means “I would’ve liked the poem more if she had referred to an unoriginal poem and recut it and made it her own.” (this does not make sense to me)
Also, I am confused on what poem you have come to believe the author has “rehewed”.
Lastly, you should know rehewing is not a word, which also adds to my confusion.
I guess I don’t understand what you mean. Would you elaborate?
Sorry if my use of the term “derivative” confused you. You did, indeed, get the gist of what I meant despite its imprecision.
Coincidental similarity to Gluck’s poem would be strange–though not unheard of. Past lives, perhaps?
Thank you for replying. I’ve never read “Parousia”, though I have read Gluck, and it was an eerie feeling finding something I thought was mine to belong very much to someone else. Her poem is rather wonderful, and though I never intended the connection I certainly won’t shy away from it. I will look to my poem again and see if I cannot revise it to be more of me, or maybe a better tribute to her. Thanks for the insight.