[John Riley]

Revision

City Circle

Neither one, roles undefined,
said a word when it began to happen,
when our legs fell weary and light as dust
and we could only make fair progress
by twisting our hips and leaning
forward from lane edge to lane edge.
Soon the moving had our bones creaking
but we never questioned the pain that settled
like old armor on top of our hips.
We looked at one another only once,
could not bear to see what the other presented,
the flaming smile like wind-pressed excitement,
the wide-open eyes, with no plans to close.

City Circle

We took a short walk in the city woods,
ten minutes to travel the trail that cut
through the middle of the manicured oaks,
and then a looping return along half
of the full circle around the copse.
Neither one, roles undefined,
said a word when it began to happen,
when our legs fell weary and light as dust
and we could only make fair progress
by twisting our hips and leaning
forward from lane edge to lane edge.
Soon the moving had our bones creaking
but we never questioned the pain that settled
like old armor on top of our hips.
We looked at one another only once,
could not bear to see what the other presented,
the flaming smile like wind-pressed excitement,
the wide-open eyes, with no plans to close.

[Julie Steiner]

When my own legs fall weary, they get heavier and more burdensome. I'm not sure what to make of "our legs grew weary and light as dust."

I'm also not sure why the sight of the other's flaming smile and open eyes "with no plans to close" would be something that "we could not bear to see" that "the other presented." If I saw those things, they would make me more, not less, hopeful about my husband's and my own ability to keep on going for some time yet. But that contradiction of my expectations might be what makes the poem.

Just my $.02.

[Michael Cantor]

I had exactly the same problem as Julie with "our legs grew weary and light as dust." Additionally, I don't understand "by twisting our hips and leaning
forward from lane edge to lane edge." (On a more positive note, I love - and can sympathize with - "the pain that settled like old armor on top of our hips."

Interestingly, I think the poem presently works better for me if you simply eliminated lines 8 through 11. What remains is clear - but also duller. A rethink/rewrite of 8-11, as opposed to just cutting them, would really help the poem.

[Rick Mullin]

Hi John,

I agree with Michael that, generally, there is a lack of clarity in the poem that ultimately amounts to just that. It might not hurt to define relationship, if not roles, of narrator and partner--if indeed they are not the same person.

I also agree with Julie. That line and the one about the weight of armor are a distracting contrast, despite one's ability to see its purpose.

I like the effect of turning back, nel mezzo Camm di nostra vita?, whereupon things happen or are noticed.

Rick

[John Riley]

Thanks for the help. If I don’t revise now it isn’t because I’m ignoring the input. I’ve learned to let suggestions linger before revising.

[Alexandra Baez]

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.

[Ella Shively]

Hi John,

I’m going to join the others in saying that I love the “old armor on top of our hips.” My favorite line, once I processed it, was “the wide-open eyes, with no plans to close.” Such a sense of lightness and forward motion at the end.

The legs feeling light didn’t bother me because I imagined it as the type of tiredness where you’ve been walking for so long that you just try to go up in your head and forget your legs exist. Like you don’t even feel them, that kind of tired. Although my attention did snag on “ten minutes.” I’m guessing it was longer than ten minutes because of the return journey, but some readers may get stuck on that detail and perceive it as short.

I would prefer “neither of us” over “neither one,” as I got confused on who or what the narrator was referring to during the first read. I wasn’t sure how to visualize the “twisting our hips” part.

Thanks for your comment on waiting to revise; I do the same thing and find it helpful to let it simmer.

Gorgeous poem! I’m not much of a met poet either, but I enjoyed the feel of it.

Ella

[R. Nemo Hill]

when our legs fell weary and light as dust

That's an interesting, counter-intuitive formulation, John, one that works against conventional idea of weariness as heaviness to formulate a kind of weariness that so lightens and numbs the muscles that they can only exert an effort light as dust, a ghost of movement. I think you need to lean into the idea of lost strength more to make it work for most readers.

Nemo

[Jan Iwaszkiewicz]

On the seeming contradiction that has been noted when pushed to one’s physical limits there comes a point of lightening not in the weight of being but in the connection to being. It is well past the point of physical markers.

It is the line that really struck me in this.

[John Riley]

Thanks for the comments. As I said above I'll have to come back to this after letting it sit. My plan, and it failed, was that the trip was so short that distance wasn't the cause of the change. But it's a bit of a mess at this point. As Nemo said I need to lean into the different and don't yet know how to do that successfully. If someone has ideas I listen, but I don't want it to become more rational.