Welcome from Amy D. Unsworth

Language, Literature, Learning & Life.

Plain Poems

I wonder sometimes about plain poems. You know, the ones that don't make extravagant gestures, or state grand themes. I find myself writing them now and again and being pleased by them. Perhaps only because they recall a moment in my life. This one particular moment happened last fall. Perhaps guilt? Perhaps to remind myself to bring the stale bread next time?


Four White Geese: Black duck

Morning, and the light off the park pond
blinding as I sit busy with daily worry,
papers, checks, and bills.
They swim across the ripples
to peer at me. Without a sound
they careen their long necks,
and paddle expectantly beside the shore
where I sit. When they finally give up
the implied hope of bread
I feel the breach of contract
as they drift, still looking back,
for some proffered sign
of kindness or kinship.



steve mueske said...

This is a beautiful poem, Amy. There's no problem with "plain poems". Hell, Stanley Plumly's made a career of it.

steve mueske said...

Amy, I've come back to read this poem several times. I just want to say that I love this poem. I love the gentle, matter-of-fact voice, the sense of beauty and kinship. Very nice.


Amy Unsworth said...

Thanks for the good thoughts. It seems that there's a lot of pressure to write "great" poems, or poems that knock off the socks of the reader. I try to write those too, but I like these plain ones also.

Thanks for stopping in,