This Poem was Submitted By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2012-02-12 10:27:56 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Time Travel

                                                                                    a light snow fell. we                                                                                     remembered other snow falls,                                                                                     and the children at younger ages,                                                                                     and a hand lay its shadow on your eyes.                                                                                     i had failed you as i failed everything.                                                                                     but at this moment you didn't care;                                                                                     i didn't fail. the snow was a sacrament,                                                                                     and everything was pure,                                                                                     holy.                                                                                       something incomplete was                                                                                      finished, and there was                                                                                      nothing left to say. the                                                                                     windowpane was frosted,                                                                                      but the future lost                                                                                      its edge: we had                                                                                      been there                                                                                      today.

Copyright © February 2012 Mark Steven Scheffer

This Poem was Critiqued By: James C. Horak On Date: 2012-03-07 13:14:29
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Lovely...and I mean that. "the snow was a sacrament" to the mind in the recollection with dear ones, a perfect way to bring the reader into your moment. JCH

This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2012-03-06 15:26:30
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mark, It feels so sad. A relationship lost. a shadow over the eyes. a failure. Everyone loses. Yet the good memories never change. They become nostalgic. It is so difficult to live through changes. I hate them. And wonder how I made it through. Break ups, deaths, heart aches illness all kinds of losses. It is hard to get past them but to an extent we do. And after a time we can see more objectively and understand what actually happened. So sorry life is tough today. Here is to the sun rising. I like your clear, write. It grabs and holds heart. Dellena
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2012-02-20 10:16:13
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Remembered snows, virginal innocence, gentle falling regret, time present and time future; as fine a poem as I have ever read. Bravo
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2012-02-17 09:40:31
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Mark, a stirring piece. Snow seems to have made it into the substance of the poets this month. Of the many pieces you have shared with us, this piece slips quietly into the intimate category, where the melancholy blends with the warmth. You use snow to fill the analogy for purity- that somehow through it all, there exists not only the purity of the fresh snow, but the acquired purity of forgiveness and rebirth. I will have to speak openly on this, snow has always had that affect on me. Speaking of failure- such a personal image, and then of sacrament, that of forgiveness and the sun rising another day, with a new aspect, touches me very deeply. It is impossible not to take this piece, with an introspective view, and find the images of the author that coincide with the images of the reader. -windowpane was frosted- always the personification of the outside and inside, the yearning and the regret, and then you changed the moment for us- placing it all in the past and present. -we had been there today- obsequious and poignant, all in the matter of a moment. And we were there to watch.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Andrew Hislop On Date: 2012-02-12 18:47:42
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
MSS So "everything was pure/holy" but "the future lost/its edge: we had/been there/today"? Does it get any more dire? MAH
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