Nailing the Landing—Endings to Poems

In February and March I addressed good openings for almost any kind of writing here at the FWA blog. And in April we meandered in the middle of poems. So now, let’s talk about how to nail the perfect ending to a poem. (I apologize in advance if this turns out to be a bit of a rant. Bad endings to good poems drive me crazy!)

Perhaps the most egregious crime of bad poetry is when the poet tries to summarize the poem for the reader. This usually happens at endings. But the writer must bear in mind that readers bring to the table their own histories. Readers take away what is needful at the moment—to them. And it may be something entirely other than what the writer had in mind while writing the poem.

That is the way it is supposed to be! Don’t tell us what the images and metaphors mean. And don’t wind it all up neatly with a denouement. Leave your poems open-ended. Leave the reader with something to ponder. If you need a reminder of a famous open ending, think of Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind. It caused a fervor when it came out. The last line of the novel (not the movie) is “After all, tomorrow is another day.” We are not told whether Scarlett and Rhett will ever get together. And the story is more delicious for that very reason.

What’s needful:

Let’s look a bit closer at the particulars I mention above. Readers take away what is needful at the moment . . . Isn’t this the way we appreciate all art? We see something, hear something, smell something and it wafts into us to mix with the maelstrom of our being: our childhood, our loves, our hates, our fears. And we appreciate the art for what it means to us as individuals. So, telling a reader what a poem is supposed to mean narrows the focus down to the writer’s life—not the reader’s. Doing this cuts off your audience. Let the reader decide what it all means.  What matters is that readers find elements in your poem that touch on their lives.

Something to ponder:

The other fun thing about not summarizing/explaining the meaning of your poem is that when you leave an ending open to interpretation it leaves the reader with something to ponder. And isn’t that what you want? How uplifting it is to think that a reader may sit with a piece you’ve written and consider it in all its various interpretations, in its music and in its lovely images. We want that lingering time in a reader’s mind. That’s what enables a poem to take root.

Some types of interesting endings:

So how should one end a poem? There are several ways, but one strong way is to end on an image. Images stay in the mind. Images can mean multiple things. This openness helps the poem to linger, such as with this very powerful image in a poem about the death of a young boy, Mid-Term Break by Seamus Heaney.

…Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four-foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.
A four-foot box, a foot for every year.

Another interesting way to end a poem is what Cincinnati Review Poetry Editor Rebecca Lindenberg calls the trap door ending, or lit fuse. That is, there is an unexpected reversal at the very end, or a fuse that will ignite something in the as yet unwritten future world of the poem. For example, this ending of the poem Cherrylog Road by James Dickey.

…Drunk on the wind in my mouth,
Wringing the handlebar for speed,
Wild to be wreckage forever.

And some things that make for interesting beginnings can be good endings: questions, commands, a sudden unexpected fact. The Inheritance by Stephen Dunn ends with a question.

…Why not just try to settle in,
take your place, however undeserved,
among the fortunate? Why not trust
that almost everyone, even in
his own house, is a troubled guest?

A small caveat:

I absolutely adhere to all I’ve said above. In fact, many of my critique partners call it “shutta-ing” a poem, or performing a “Shutta” on one when I suggest cutting their last two lines. However, I do admit that there are poems that must be absolutely clear about their messages. This is especially true for poems written specifically for occasions: weddings, municipal poems at dedications, funerals, etc. In these instances, we want to make sure our audience gets the underlying message without a lot of work. This will help those hearing it, or reading it, who may not have a lot of experience with poetry.

And if you are writing for children, or humor, there is often a clear punchline at the end. That is perfectly fine. There are always exceptions to the rule.

Some examples of good open endings:

From: Achieving Perspective by Pattianne Rogers

…And when you look at me in this way
I try to recall that at this moment
Somewhere millions of miles beyond the dimness
Of the sun, the comet Biela, speeding
In its rocks and ices, is just beginning to enter
The widest arc of its elliptical turn.

From: Winter Syntax by Billy Collins

…At dawn he will spot the vine of smoke
rising from your chimney, and when he stands
before you shivering, draped in sparkling frost,
a smile will appear in the beard of icicles,
and the man will express a complete thought.

From: Magdalene—The Seven Devils by Marie Howe

…For months I dreamt of knucklebones and roots,
the slabs of sidewalk pushed up like crooked teeth by what grew underneath.

The underneath. That was the first devil.  It was always with me
And that I didn’t think you—if I told you—would understand any of this—

Resources:

• How to Create Powerful Endings in Poetry:  https://natalieholborow.com/2024/12/23/how-to-create-powerful-endings-in-poetry
• Trap Doors & Lit Fuses:  https://www.cincinnatireview.com/on-craft/trapdoors-lit-fuses-how-we-end-our-poems
• Ways to End a Poem:   https://www.writebetterpoems.com/articles/ways-to-end-a-poem-use-an-image