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[Generalkaos]

Okay, so this one is new as well. It seems I'm not getting any feedback here, but since my workshop has disbanded for a week or two, this is the only place I can go to get some things looked at. Any and all commentary is welcome...!
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I did not know until earlier today that the old bakery was gone. How
many things will pass from my life secret in the night, walking softly
as across dry leaves? If you are one of them, tell me now. If you cannot
find the words, tap your message in code with a teaspoon against the
side of your mug.

Do you hear? Do you hear the passing cars? Their dyspeptic rumble
sinks into the cracked and overgrown streets. Yellow grass sprouts
through the sidewalk and the gray late afternoon sky absorbs both
light and sound. We are in the quiet between days. We are in the
cursed hours, the wasted hours, the hours not counted in sleek
cowhide day planners.

The man with the limp has become a photograph. His smiles have
stretched to crease his florid face. His eyes are dull?have they seen
too much weather? His teeth are bleached from the sun. His limp
is gone now, his stride has gone long and powerful. Backs of infants
break at his tread and flowers bloom behind him, weep blood. His
coat flaps in the salted wind. I can almost, almost understand it.

A week or two ago, you slapped my belly to wake me at three in the
morning. You smiled as I groaned and my head broke the surface
of sleep. You said, There?s blue outside, and I smelled wood smoke
on the new Spring air.

[parch]

I think you may have found a fan in me. The way this poem between different scenes made me focus on the detail and fall in love w/ it. The beginning and ending paragraphs brought it all together.

parch

[blackaquea]

i agree with parch!!

it flows in a way that will make u stick to it...