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    dots Submission Name: A fragmentdots

    Author: Wolfwatching
    ASL Info:    28/Male/Ireland
    Elite Ratio:    7.81 - 94/130/109
    Words: 158
    Class/Type: Poetry/Serious
    Total Views: 1089
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 998


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsA fragmentdots

    By the back of the park
    Where the trains go
    On the wall of the canal
    The scratch of rough concrete
    Is clearing the path of swans
    Like so much magic marker
    Their lively windswept reds and yellows
    Brighten along the grassy hill.
    Cold hands hold tight to the edge of a slide
    Slowing to a crawl they slump at the bottom
    Meaty rubber tyres go back and forth
    Borne up by Winter chains impervious to my nails.
    My duffle jackets getting static shocks.
    The familiar walk winding upward past
    Sad imaginings lurking in shadowy bushes;
    Those who live over withered railings
    Where they leave their empty bottles of lucozade
    Whose labels have lost their luster in the orange glow.
    The man who lived downstairs has gone away;
    No longer will he walk up the path with me.
    My friend is waiting by the corner shop,
    But she is older now and will not remember me.

    Submitted on 2012-11-10 20:15:00     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      You did a really great job with your description. I got a "fragment" of a visual mixed with a feeling of nostalgia cast by your tone, and by the end of the piece it concluded in a very lovely manner. I like this a lot and I see as I am reading a few of your pieces I look forward to more of your work. It is not the same piece over and over, you have such sensitivity and vulnerability consistent from piece to piece but the format and subject change like the next anticipates event in a narrative. I like where you go as a writer with your own voice, from the heart.
    | Posted on 2015-08-24 00:00:00 | by lori_tab | [ Reply to This ]
      This perfectly captures the melancholy of going home...revisiting old places, seeing old faces and missing others.

    I'm not qualified to critique the mechanics of the poem, but I can say it all worked magnificently.
    | Posted on 2012-11-12 00:00:00 | by latentlylyrical | [ Reply to This ]
      I think that is beautifully intriguing and Robert Frost-like, kinda sad.
    | Posted on 2012-11-10 00:00:00 | by Daniel Barlow | [ Reply to This ]

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