This blog has been created as an open experiment of poetry composition, perhaps a glimpse at an emerging manuscript as it matures. This working manuscript should not be considered as complete or published. Instead, this should be viewed as merely an early stage in the process of creation.

I have placed below some of the pages from an isolated venture in one of my typescript loose-leaf folders. The contents here represent portions of an ongoing personal project with a particularly narrow focus intended to eventually develop toward a book-length poetry sequence with the tentative working title of

The poem will grow as new sections are added. The individual posts are designed so that they may be viewed as independent items; however, I have consciously carried themes, images, and similar language through the extended sequence with the hope that connectivity and continuity will be preserved among numerous sections of the long poem.

Readers are asked to regard this piece as a work in progress, a partial or rough draft rather than a finished product (even if some selected segments previously may have appeared in print), and I request everyone realize various edits, emendations, or expansion may be made to the posts at any time in the future. Moreover, at some point the entire sequence will be removed to undergo a complete revision.

Therefore, I urge visitors to become followers of the blog by clicking the link in the sidebar, as well as to follow on Twitter for updates. Readers are also invited to browse my personal web site for additional information.

Indeed, a significant part of this experiment involves a certain amount of transparency that includes the possibility for readers to communicate responses and offer constructive suggestions, both of which I welcome through post comments or e-mail messages.

Also, I advise that the order of the numbered sections is not meant to be at all definitive since the long poem’s sequence will certainly be reorganized as the work in this temporary format starts to resemble a completed manuscript and begins to assume a more formal shape that might eventually be suitable for publication. In fact, I welcome interest from book publishers as well.

Thank you for taking the time to examine this trial stage, a test which I perceive as a preliminary process in the composition of a possible poetry manuscript. —Edward Byrne

Tuesday, May 17, 2011


. . . . . XXXI. April Reverie

Pausing with Alex along a park path
. . . . . on our way out toward a fallow field

in northern Indiana on a late morning
. . . . . in early April, bits of light drizzling

through new growth of an old oak,
. . . . . slipping between its green lacework

of little leaves bristling in the wind
. . . . . above, a couple of crows still caught

in the draft moving overhead, a few
. . . . . cream-colored clouds slipping past,

drifting in deep blue sky, sliding by
. . . . . like pale sails seen on an unbroken

horizon, that straight line of an open
. . . . . ocean, calm and seemingly endless,

I remember watching one afternoon
. . . . . alongside a deck rail more than four

decades ago, the same age as my son
. . . . . today, crossing the Atlantic, cruising

waters west of the Azores and testing
. . . . . the taste of salt in the air, wondering

when wet sunset breezes and humid
. . . . . nights might at last give way to arid

days in a landlocked location far off
. . . . . somewhere, only thinking once again

of a curious course ahead, as always
. . . . . fascinated by what the future offers

but puzzled by its many possibilities,
. . . . . just as I am now, here in this spring

setting, observing as Alex measures
. . . . . every step, gauges the walk before us,

checks a stopwatch to time our pace,
. . . . . knowing so well the distance yet to go.