Nightwalking (title change, edit #3.2 (Todd)

[Todd]

Hey Ella, I haven't tried to critique one of these in forever. I do love the progression you've made. Let me give you some comments on the latest version.

edit#3 (all power to the PigPen)

A moonbeam's trail unwinds downhill
and threads its way through wooden blinds
to dance upon my windowsill.


I hope that I'm not being too picky here. I like the way this all sounds with its unwinds/threads/blinds word choices. Where I'm getting hung up is when I try to move with the image through the poem, and maybe I'm just totally off so be prepared to disregard this. I have a moonbeam coming from the moon. It leaves a trail. The trail behind the moonbeam unwinds as it moves downhill. This trail that has unwound now threads its way through window blinds, and there's enough interaction between light and shadow between the blinds that it appears to dance.  It seems odd to me that this is the trail of a moonbeam doing this and not the moonbeam itself. I'm probably just seeing it wrong.

Through channels of a moonshine still--I'm not sure of what a moonshine still is. I think of a still to make alcohol, but I don't think that's intended here.
a glittered path of gold designs
a moonbeam's trail unwound downhill;--I love that you used unwound and switched up the wording.
light focused tight enough to fill--Again, I think of words like unwound leading to diffused light not a tightening of it.
the room in matching streams aligns
to two-step on my windowsill.--This is great. Taking the idea of dancing and hitting it again at a slant. It's also probably more of what light may look like. There's an advantage I think to playing around with these specific choices like this.

Night owl's hoot and barn wren's trill
meet in the air, their song entwines
with moonbeam trails that wind downhill--I love the progression of these three lines.
as darkness bursts the stars until
they spill like spiraled orange rinds
and skip across my windowsill.--In fact from an imagery standpoint I love this entire stanza. The idea of darkness bursting the stars like overripe oranges with their rinds spiraling outward is  really nice.

White swan's reflective wings and bill
go gliding by, its path defines
a moonbeam's trail that winds downhill
to dance upon my windowsill.

I don't want to overdo it in Mild. I feel I'm close to doing that. Very much enjoyed the poem, Ella. I just had some issues visualizing some of it.

I hope this is more help than confusion.

Best,

Todd