The Launch

[Richard]

Hey alatos,
I have to agree with the others that some parts of this poem work well, while other parts need strengthening. I'll go into detail below:

The day was different now, -This seems like the main problem in the poem for the speaker; the apparent change in the day noticed by the woman the speaker knows. I think you should consider making this line the title because of this. However, I'm torn because I like this stanza too.
and yes, she would walk out into
the garden of unruly ferns
and plump mosses.

The vegetable world was unaware
that the day was different now.
Maybe it was only her mind:
maybe, she feared, it was. -I absolutely love the last two lines of this stanza. They made me stop and reread them. They work because they're so human and sad at the same time.

The sun was oblivious,
up there in its nest of cloud. -I like the nest metaphor because it ties into the last stanza.
And though the day itself had changed,
the cicadas remained inconsiderate.

Those rude buggers, and the sun and plants!
Ignorant creatures, that could be so unaware -Is the repetition of "unaware" intentional? I would suggest using a different word.
that the day now differed entirely,
and everything was new.

No, it had not been in her mind.
Unfounded fear. A heresy -I liked it better when she was uncertain because she feared it was all in her mind.
against her reborn spirit.
And yet, although she knew

The sun and the cicadas,
blind idiots, and all other  
forms of life that creep
about the earth, and fly, and swim,

Were without reason's inspiration,
she also knew that she herself,
(bloody, abortive pill)
that she herself was unreasonable. -I get what you're going for with this and the last stanza, but I wonder what might happen if you tried to downsize and combine them into one stanza?

At times. As a child. Was she? -I feel like you need to develop the child image more, and how her as a child relates to her current state. I think this could be a potent image of explore.
Was she a premature unhinging
of the self's supremacy, a return
to the primitive of images,

emotions without words? Could she
speak yet? But the day had felt so
different. But now it was the same.
But wait! because -Maybe think about cutting this stanza? It just doesn't add much to me.

there, in the beam of light that
cut aslant the porcelainberry growing
up the rotten shed across the street
a catbird launches its lightness with a shriek. -I like that the poem ends with a shriek because it mimics how the woman in the poem is probably feeling.

I think you have a good start here, and I look forward to seeing where you take this piece from here.

Thanks for the read,
Richard