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		Edit 2There's a cold breeze
 coming through the back door,
 causing it to creak on its hinges.
 Grandads gone across the backs
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages,
 gently I place an arm
 around his confusion.
 Using soft words we stumble outside
 to breathe in real moments.
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens
 through heavy dew droplets,
 strung out across gossamer connections
 that tremble in the thin morning light.
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear overhead
 like ghosts into field mist.
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 "they're not coming back are they son?"
 I put my coat around his shoulders,
 'no Grandad they've been gone too long".
 
 We start the slow walk back towards the house,
 "someone will have to tell your Grandma,
 she loved those birds"
 I silently take his unpredictable hand,
 match my pace to his wet slippered shuffle,
 and avoid the cloudy-yellow of his child like eyes.
 
 
 Edit 1
 A cold awareness leaves
 the back door open,
 causing it to creak on its hinges.
 Grandad's gone across the backs
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages,
 gently I place an arm
 around the confusion.
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens
 through droplets, strung out
 to tremble in the damp morning light.
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear,
 ghosts into field mist.
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 “they’re not coming back are they son?”
 I put my coat around his shoulders.
 We start the slow walk back towards the house.
 “Someone will have to tell your Grandma,
 she loves those birds”
 
 I catch the coat as it slips off his shoulders
 and wrap it around him once again.
 
 
 
 
 Original
 There’s a cold breeze
 coming through the back door
 causing it to creak on its hinges,
 Grandad's gone across the backs
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages,
 gently I place an arm
 around the confusion.
 Using soft words we stumble outside
 towards real moments.
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens
 through droplets, strung out
 to tremble in the damp morning light.
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear overhead
 like ghosts into field mist.
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 “they’re not coming back are they son?”
 I put my coat around his shoulders,
 ‘no Grandad they’ve been gone too long”.
 We start the slow walk back towards the house.
 
 “Someone will have to tell your Grandma,
 she loved those birds”
 “She’s gone too Grandad,
 Grandma’s gone too”.
 
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 489Threads: 182
 Joined: Jan 2013
 
	
	
		 (02-22-2017, 04:10 AM)Keith Wrote:  There’s a cold breezecoming through the back door I think you could cut "coming".
 causing it to creak on its hinges,
 Grandad's gone across the backs I assume backs is referring to back yard - [b]are there multiple backs? I might just be missing something.[/b]
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages,
 gently I place an arm
 around the confusion. I like this "I place an arm around the confusion". I don't know if you need "gently", though, the context implies you're trying to soothe the situation anyway. Plus, "soft words" in the next section confrims it.
 Using soft words we stumble outside
 towards real moments. I think you could have something stronger than "real moments".
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens
 through droplets, strung out
 to tremble in the damp morning light.
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear overhead
 like ghosts into field mist. Nice.
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 “they’re not coming back are they son?”
 I put my coat around his shoulders,
 ‘no Grandad they’ve been gone too long”.
 We start the slow walk back towards the house.
 
 “Someone will have to tell your Grandma,
 she loved those birds”
 “She’s gone too Grandad,
 Grandma’s gone too”.
 
This poem's not for the birds. I liked it, it's a nice scene.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
	Posts: 2,360Threads: 230
 Joined: Oct 2010
 
	
	
		Keith, 
Here are a few comments for you.
  (02-22-2017, 04:10 AM)Keith Wrote:  There’s a cold breeze--ending this line on coming might make it less flat and more evocative.coming through the back door
 causing it to creak on its hinges,--Nice building of tension
 Grandad's gone across the backs
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages,--I like derelict cages
 gently I place an arm
 around the confusion.--I love this phrasing
 Using soft words we stumble outside
 towards real moments.--While I see how this frames the scene. I think I'd consider cutting this line and let the strophe end on stumble outside
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens
 through droplets, strung out
 to tremble in the damp morning light.--beautifully written
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear overhead
 like ghosts into field mist.--lovely
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 “they’re not coming back are they son?”
 I put my coat around his shoulders,
 ‘no Grandad they’ve been gone too long”.--might be stronger without this line of dialogue
 We start the slow walk back towards the house.
 
 “Someone will have to tell your Grandma,
 she loved those birds”--Maybe to build the surprise go with loves instead of loved
 “She’s gone too Grandad,
 Grandma’s gone too”.--for me the last two lines are the weakest (of a pretty strong poem). I think I'd go with a bit of ambiguity here maybe, cut the dialogue, and possibly replace it with a repetition of your earlier lines: "gently I place an arm/around the confusion"
 
 Just a thought
 
Enjoyed the read. I hope the comments will be helpful to you.
 
Best,
 
Todd
	
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		 (02-22-2017, 04:10 AM)Keith Wrote:  There’s a cold breezecoming through the back door  "coming" seems a bit weak - sighing or moaning, or better
 causing it to creak on its hinges,  more descriptive in place of "its" - "rusting" or even "fitless"
 Grandad's gone across the backs  this line is beautiful in every way:  picturing tar-papered roofs like an ill-fitting cape across the shoulders of kneeling, decrepit tenement buildings
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages,
 gently I place an arm
 around the confusion.  exactly right line
 Using soft words we stumble outside
 towards real moments.  another good one
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens
 through droplets, strung out
 to tremble in the damp morning light.  "liquid" for "damp?"  just a thought
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear overhead  "vanish" for "disappear," but could make the rhythm too simple
 like ghosts into field mist.  getting the picture, and *must* have ghosts, but reads more awkwardly than necessary IMHO
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 “they’re not coming back are they son?”  want a comma after "back," but it would break the brokenness
 I put my coat around his shoulders,
 ‘no Grandad they’ve been gone too long”.
 We start the slow walk back towards the house.
 
 “Someone will have to tell your Grandma,  add "son" at the end?  or would that be too lyric?
 she loved those birds”
 “She’s gone too Grandad,
 Grandma’s gone too”.  "too" repeated, perfect finish.
 
This is so very good, in both concept and execution, it's hard to critique at all.  My notes above are barely suggestions, might find one that's an actual improvement or leads to one.  A fine read, and thank you.
	 
 Non-practicing atheist 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Hi!
 so...I really like this. The title intrigued me and i was rewarded. (-;
 For myself, i really appreciate a rhythm when i read, instead of rhyme-iness..and in your poem, i feel the beat.
 
 I feel the strongest parts are the first three stanzas. There lies its strength, in setting the mood. Feeling, not telling.
 
 Favorite line: 'gently i place an arm around the confusion.' Perfectly illustrates a sense of trying to handle things, gently..with an economy of words...and a nice image, to boot.
 
 i feel like the last two stanzas with diologue, pull me out of the poem a little. its only opinion....but you could end the poem with that 'like ghosts into field mist' third stanza, and have a nice poem indeed...ending on an image, too.
 
 also, i read through and considered--what about dropping the fourth stanza, but leaving the last one, the last four lines? I think theres a lot of information and feeling in just those last four lines. Ending with that would have a kind of 'punch' i think.
 So - hope a few of these suggested edits or ways to 'play around with it' are useful.
 Very nice, indeed.
 
 Good luck,
 Vanity
 
"Why do you suppose we only feel compelled to chase the ones who run away?" -Vicomte de Valmont, Dangerous Liasons
 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		Keith, this is a beautiful piece. The relationship between the N and the grandfather is tenderly portrayed. The tone of the interactions comes through clearly.   (02-22-2017, 04:10 AM)Keith Wrote:  There’s a cold breezecoming through the back door -- I agree with ending on 'coming.'
 causing it to creak on its hinges,
 Grandad's gone across the backs -- like the casual tone
 to feed his pigeons.
 
 I find him inside the empty loft
 closing derelict cages, -- I can see a correlation between this line and the door that creaks on its hinges -- maybe you could keep the door imagery, just rework it.
 gently I place an arm
 around the confusion. -- These last four lines are gorgeous, and I think it's a good idea to stop the stanza here.
 Using soft words we stumble outside
 towards real moments.
 
 The overgrown allotment glistens -- 'allotment' feels too formal, unless it's a cultural difference
 through droplets, strung out
 to tremble in the damp morning light. -- I like the allusion to spiderwebs without naming them. Trembling in the morning light highlights the theme of vulnerability.
 We hear the rush of racing pigeons
 and watch them disappear overhead
 like ghosts into field mist. -- nice foreshadowing of the last line
 
 Grandad stood staring at the sky,
 “they’re not coming back are they son?”
 I put my coat around his shoulders, -- I like how you're using these little details to describe the relationship
 ‘no Grandad they’ve been gone too long”.
 We start the slow walk back towards the house.
 
 “Someone will have to tell your Grandma,
 she loved those birds” -- I agree with changing 'loved' to loves.
 “She’s gone too Grandad,
 Grandma’s gone too”. -- I don't think you need to state that she's gone twice. Once will suffice.
 
Lovely work, Keith.   
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		@ Wjames, Todd, Duke, Vanity, Lizzie. Thank you for all your excellent feedback, I'm sorry I haven't been back to this sooner but please don't take that a a lack of appreciation for the work you have all put in to your comments. 
 I have considered all the feed back and have attempted an edit, thanks to your guidance. I have focus on the opening and the end lines, I cut some of the dialogue sections and have another look at real moments as I agree this stanza needs tightening. Very much appreciated Keith
 
If your undies fer you've been smoking through em, don't peg em out
 
		
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