Okay, it looks like I'm going to start this one off.
Lydia, as you know, I adore your poetry, and this poem is no exception. I love that it feels like a photograph or painting of the event. The power of the horses juxtaposes nicely with the weakness of a man about to commit suicide. And I adore the phrase "apricot skied;" it's the perfect description!
I am, however, left questioning why grandpa would choose to commit suicide in the horse pen. At this point, I can see why the horses might kill him, but I'm not seeing the love, that comfort level, that would make a person feel that dying with the horses is the right thing.
Also, the section (3rd stanza, I think) that says "Brushed but saddled/Patted but spurred, grazed but corralled" feels a little off. The idea of love and control/freedom/slavery at odds with each other starts to come across, but is not as strong as it could be. Perhaps its the use of the word "but"? I'm not sure, but I know that this idea is probably the most important of the poem, because it really explains the rest of it--why the horses kill him and why he feels this is the place he should die.
(One further note, just a trifle--horses have hooves, not paws.)
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Mishell, thank you for your feedback; I really appreciate it! However, it doesn't look like this blog format is going to work out for this type of workshoping. That makes me sad because I want to read your guys' writing. I guess this will serve as a good place to exchange ideas about writing, but not our actual work because of publication and copyright stuff :(
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