[Insert title here]

No, no that's not a typo.

I want to leave you,

but how can I when your summers are so sweet—

when I know that honeysuckles share their sugary scent

every afternoon? Their sunshine-yellow flowers grin,

knowing their perfume’s descent will flirt with noses.

Their ethereal drops float on the balmy breeze,

spraying Earth’s skin.

I ponder moving on,

but how can I when the brushstrokes of each sunset

wash the world with warm hues—

when even the doves perch themselves on the rooftop

to admire each masterpiece, their coo’s carrying across 

the airy evening, rising and falling 

like Earth’s chest as it drifts to sleep. 

I long for more,

but how can I when my lullabies have been the rain—

when I throw my window open wide just to hear

the shhh of falling showers? Gentle rain slips

through leaves, flowing from the night to wash

away imperfections of the previous day

and cleanse Earth’s face.

I dream of what’s beyond,

but know I’ll come back to you—

for your mornings begin with the chickadees

and sparrows singing the sun awake.

Morning glories bloom again, and air floats,

soft as monarch’s wings kissing Earth’s cheek.

That was pretty cool, Hannah

Well thank you! I hope you enjoyed my poem! I thought I would share the only poem I've written that I'm actually proud of. Actually, that's not true; I'm proud of the majority of my writing because I'm constantly reminded of how much I've grown as a writer. However, this is the only poem I've written that feels finished. Between the stylistic choices, layout, and sounds, I don't feel the need to change a single thing. Writing this poem wasn't a challenge either— I knew what I wanted to express, didn't go through too many cups of tea while writing it, and spent little time in the editing stage simply because my choices felt right. Yet despite my love and pride over this poem, you may have noticed one thing is missing; while the contents of the stanzas are finished, this poem lacks a title.

What's in a title?

I've honestly always struggled with coming up with titles for my pieces, but especially for poems. Should I take a few words from the lines and use them? Which words and ideas the most important? How much do I want the readers to interpret on their own? I think that's the biggest conundrum I have. Poetry is perhaps the most lenient form of literature in regards to interpretation. There is a great deal of room to read between the lines, and the poet is given the task of deciding how much power readers have in their analyses.

This poem has had multiple titles since I originally wrote it in January: "Honeysuckles," "Pennsylvania in Summer," "When Your Summers." Obviously none of them felt right to me, but why all of the changes? At first the poem was only about honeysuckles, and this became the title. However, after writing that first draft, I realized I wanted it to be more than just a poem about flowers. That's when the poem became what you read! My inspiration was Pennsylvania during summer, and I let the title reflect this. As I was writing this for a poetry class, I had to meet with a peer editing group to review our work, and it was at one of these meetings that my group members said that the title felt too concrete and didn't complement the imagery and sounds of the poem itself. So that is how the poem came to be "When Your Summers," yet this still doesn't feel right.

That which we call a poem by any other name would smell as sweet

As I said, I've always struggled with naming my works, but this poem is even more challenging because of the number of people I've shared it with. I've found that the poem not having a title allows readers more freedom in their interpretations. While I wrote the poem about leaving what is familiar and the feelings that come with it, some people have interpreted it as being about moving on from a relationship, or simply an ode to nature. I enjoy hearing how people perceived my poem, and while I know what my intentions and emotions behind writing it were, I'm never going to correct the thoughts and feelings it evokes in its readers (I mean, unless your interpretation is really very truly far from anything that makes sense).

I'm not sure where I was going with this post (I'm writing this after midnight and you know how late night thoughts usually appear more meaningful than they are). If I can leave you with anything, it would be that poetry is subjective and hearing your interpretations makes me as the poet burst with happiness. Please feel free to contact me if you want to share your thoughts! But as far as the titular matter, I suppose I'll just do whatever feels right :)

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Also, just because I like to share my music selections and playlists, here's the playlist I was listening/dancing to while I wrote this!