John, I found myself at first a bit nonplussed by the utilitarian language of the opening, but then drawn in as it began to assume a voice reminiscent of Frost’s blank verse. I soon started getting a sense that I was going somewhere—an adventure, a learning experience--though I didn’t know where. Then came “neither one,” which I found a bit obliquely generic in tone; my heart inclined instead toward something at least as specific and personal as “neither one of us.” “Roles undefined” also seems undefined in itself—like Rick, I want to know what kind of roles you’re talking about; I can guess, but I shouldn’t feel like I’m needing to write this part of the poem in my head. Ditto on others’ points about the legs “weary and light as dust” and “twisting our hips and leaning forward from lane edge to lane edge.” But I, too, love the “old armor” image. Also ditto on the confusion about “could not bear” and the descriptions that follows. At the end of the poem, I found myself not knowing what it was trying to be about, although I wanted to. The opening’s sense of promise regarding a compelling destination seemed unfulfilled.
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