Rights of Passage

[Leslie]

RIGHTS OF PASSAGE

No doubt they have advantages
these farm gates of tubular steel,
but they come as an offence, suddenly
hard and brutal in the soft run of a hedge.
Metal in place of wood. Adamant.

Not enough for this farmer:
uprights welded into place
increase the barrier by two feet,
barbed wire strung in laddered rows
between them and through the gate. Emphatic.

Morning has brushed its dew
along my shoes. Beyond the gate
the mirror of a shining field
is smudged with rabbit runs.
A hawk hangs flicker-winged above.
Spiders have laced their trembling art
between the wire vines’ metal thorns
filtering small moisture pearls
that sift the sunlight through
and shake out separated colours.
Grit spots in the necklaces
are the corpses of trapped flies.

Everyone has rights.

[Bombadil]

Leslie,

How long did you spend writing this?

Cheers,

Keith

[jkvanburen]

Leslie,

The third stanza is eloquent, soft, stylish, lovely( more below)

It is not easy to write a poem with an "agenda" without sounding preachy. You dance along the edge of observation and prescribing the opinion. This is well done. I have some comments below in the text of the poem.

RIGHTS OF PASSAGE

No doubt they have their advantages,
these farm gates of tubular steel: <excellent opening!easier to handle, low maintenance,
that sort of thing; <I am not sure these two lines are necessary, I think the reader can determine the advantage... if anything, I would recommend that you consider dropping" that sort of thing" It adds a conversational tone I do not see in the rest of the poem.

but they come as an offence, suddenly
hard and brutal in the soft run of a hedge.
Metal in place of wood. Adamant. [/i]< you might consider italicizing Adamant and Emphatic to show the break in the tone of the poem.... the poets side thoughts. Very concrete opinions.

Not enough for this farmer: <seems harsh on the farmer. in our area, it is either these fences or no crops. Our organic farm down the road had to install these pain in the ass fences because deer ate everything. The farmers were the last people to want to add these fences. I think we all share the blame for the need for these ugly fences. I try to see them and think of the crops we will share as a community, after having driven the deer and other animals out of their homes by urban spraw. uprights welded into place
raise the barrier additional two feet,
barbed wire strung in laddered rows
between them and through the gate. Emphatic.

I have brushed daybreak’s dew
along my shoes. Beyond the gate
the mirror of a shining field
is smudged with rabbit runs.
A hawk hangs flicker-winged above.
Spiders have laced their trembling art
between the wire vines’ metal thorns
filtering small moisture pearls
that sift the sunlight through
and shake out separated colours.
Grit spots in the necklaces
are the corpses of trapped flies. <I love this whole verse, no suggestions. You do an excellent job showing how nature can play the game no matter what man does to the playing field, and do it beautifully. I really enjoyed this poem! Thanks!
Everyone has rights.

[cameron]

You seem to be on a roll at the moment Leslie. The only problematical bit for me was the 'additional two feet' etc which seemed overly complicated and hard to picture. Otherwise, up there with your finest.

Cam

[Macavity]

Enjoyed this. I like Adamant/Emphatic as they are (italics would dilute - only a visual thing anyway)

'that sort of thing' - I'd keep it, like the sardonic tone

'Not enough for this farmer' let it be blunt, no need to compromise, I'd keep that too

The last stanza is pretty, but is saved by the grit/flies thing

cheers

mac

[OrlandoGardener]

Ilike your tone and I always like observant poetry. Also, I tend to hate fences, so you've got me with this one.

I really liked "smudged with rabbit runs."

I didn't like "I have brushed..." so much. Maybe daybreak should be doing the brushing. I think this is a poem that contrasts working allong with nature over and against fences that represent controll and ugliness and breaking up the naturalness of the country. In such a poem I think you might give daybreak a little more power and yourself a little less.

Wow, I said that poorly.

[Leslie]

Thanks, one and all, excellent responses which will receive my serious consideration. They hit at the very points about which I was not entirely happy myself. Proves something!
Keith, there's no simple answer to 'how long in the making.' I write a bit and then go away and do something else; when I get back to the poem it's like coming back to something new, and a bit more gets added - or something gets rewritten. On this one, I'd guess actual pen to paper work amounts to about 4 hours, but that takes no account of work done in the head whilst lying awake in bed, pottering in the garden and, in this case, mending a puncture in the bike's tyre.
JK, 'circumstances alter cases' was a favourite saying of a teacher when I was at school (back in the Dark Ages). The title is a play on Rites of Passage and The Right to Roam. The latter was a long-running campaign in this country that won the public the right to wander over much land, privately owned, to which access had been denied. The poem refers to a gateway that was/is a view point at which I like to stop and look across a field that slopes down to a reservoir where water-birds paddle about, on the far shore of which stands an historic, turreted manor-house. The view now is through that extended, wired-up gate, so that I feel like a p.o.w. on the inside looking out. The field is rough pasture and never put to crops. Maybe the farmer has cause; I'm sure I can't guess what.
However, I much appreciate your comments and the method of presentation. Serious study required. Leslie.

[twelveoone]

Leslie, I realize this is a bit of a "love-fest" comment. Damn, I like the way you think.
"Emphatic."
Yes, I love the one word sentences at the end of the stanzas.
And yes, I loved your description of the spiders' trembling art

"Spiders have laced their trembling art...
Grit spots in the necklaces
are the corpses of trapped flies."

I could not help reading corpses and thinking copses nice psych play if intended

it don't get much better than this, sorry for the excess love.

[Leslie]

I have edited the poem in the light of comments. JK, in my mind, when composing that first verse, I was pretty much speaking it, addressing it to the owner of the gate perhaps; thus the conversational tone. But you are right that as a poem for others to read, it's better without the two lines, it brings the metal gates and their offence closer together.
I hope the awkward 'barrier' bit is smoothed out, Cam.
Still not sure about Italics for Adamant and Emphatic, Mac - would make little difference to a reading but would be effective in print.
Orlando, I agree with you about letting the morning brush the shoes rather than do it myself.

The last section is a bit 'pretty', true. I wanted to lay it on to strengthen the contrast with the flies' corpses at the end. It was difficult to know how far to go before becoming 'twee'.

Again, thanks for all the comments. Leslie.