Symphony

I kept it as prose because I didn't know where to put breaks. I'm kinda new at this. The last line, in retrospect, could be a zip as opposed to a calm reflection, but I don't know if it would fit the mood of this poem. I'll need to reflect on that.

I am humbled by your comments and analysis. I've learned some things this past week, and learning, well, that's a damn fine thing.

I had to come back and look, I don't like. Extreme prejudice in my part. Aversion to Prose Poetry. I like line breaks. The end of the line is another tool. You weren't penalized. The word choices are excellent, I agree with comments below. The ending strikes me as too pat, as if the big statement. I don't read irony in it. So how well does it turn?

I wouldn't mind seeing this rewritten, it is that interesting.

I love how small this poem makes me feel. I agree with the post above, though, in that I think that the final sentence cheats the patient reader out of his own discovery. And it might just be that I always connect the word "dappled" to pied beauty. But, its use feels out of place.

If I may indulge in a somewhat personal response:

I like the symphonic quality of this poem as it moves from the peaceful togetherness and warmth of hands held in silence to the cold cacophony of the haunting birdsong of the whippoorwills clashing with the relentless, high-pitched rasp of crickets. The warmth of held hands contrasts with the the monochrome starlit scene and the swaying of the ghostly trees.

As the moon rises, the poet's partner turns from their closeness and is drawn to the emerging visuals of a decaying edifice and is prompted to sing of Jesus to a building that has lost the energy a congregation once gave it.

As the partner turns to join the cacophony, the togetherness of two people holding hands shifts so that the focus becomes the poet’s submersion into the totality of the universe. From the togetherness of two individuals alone in the universe and subsumed by their togetherness at the beginning, we arrive at an expansion of the poet beyond the partnership to a sense of resonating with the universe.

At first glance, the poem has a look of prose, but it is very specifically structured so that the grouping of the lines coincide with distinct movements (or shifts) in the symphonic whole.

". . . monochrome rainbows . . ." is cheekily challenging to this reader and thus a source of delightful surprise.

of this, which is unusual. The two progressively shorter paragraphs/stanzas and then the single sentence. There are some nice images as well. I'm not sure about the final line - which to me sounds like something Carl Sagan might say :).