I found this poem in a book I have been reading recently The Mask Always a mask Held in the slim hand whitely Always she had a mask before her face - Truly the wrist Holding it lightly Fitted the task: Sometimes however Was there a shiver, Fingertip quiver, Ever so slightly - Holding the mask? For years and years and years I wondered But dared not ask And then - I blundered, looked behind the mask, To find Nothing - She had no face. She had become Merely a hand Holding a mask With grace. -Author unknown Anyone have any thoughts, feelings, interpretations they want to share?
this was an interesting poem. the rhyme was not overpowering, so I enjoyed that - many poems using a rhyme scheme can sound trite. I wonder if the author was speaking of themselves. The "slim" adj. immediately made me think this was a woman's hand but the poem uses "her" many times so not sure "slim" is needed or helps in any way. The use of the word "whitely" makes me imagine that the grasp is tight - kind of another way of saying squeezing tightly so the knuckles turn white. I like that. The repetition of "years" three times seems overkill, I think two would have arrived at the same result. The verb "blundered" was confusing... I want to guess that the author's intent was to indicate if they had only never looked behind the mask they would never have known... but "blundered" - I wasn't sure that was the right verb there for this. Can't offer better. The one other thing to note is at the end the author indicates "she HAD become" which insinuates that the author knew this person before the mask and she had a face before but it starts with "always she had a mask" - well if she always had a mask, then perhaps - she never had a face to begin with. Thanks for sharing, this was very intriguing. Back to work! Was eating lunch and browsing! Better get to work! lol,
