last wish home

[FroglovesToad]

The light from the sun drips in auburn tinted drops onto the landscape, flooding his furrowed eyes with the glow. 

For a rare moment in time, as the cracks in the soil interweave in a diamond shaped pattern in the dry earth, coalescing into the terrain–

–he thinks that finally this life might be for him. He can make this life for him.

The days have begun to feel like a song. A harpy, disjointed, strange sort of rhythm; fading in and out of tune.   

The brass spurs, as they clink against the stirrup;

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

Boiling water as it bubbles up and over the lid of the pot, droplets of water falling into the crackling fire.

He’d very badly like to go home one last time, he wants to try again. He can be different. 

Flipping a penny in the air, It lingers overhead.

The spinning and turning hesitates for a single second as it shines, casting its mark in a brief interlude.

Still, things are how they are. Once you've dug a grave for someone, they aren’t allowed to come back. 

He doesn't check what side the coin lands on. 

It’s already been pocketed and he’s saddled up on his horse in the opposite direction. 

Bound towards the perpetual sunset, and farther from what was once home.

[brynmawr1]

The light from the sun drips in auburn tinted drops onto the landscape, flooding his furrowed eyes with the glow. 
Consider 'Sunlight drips auburn on the landscape, flooding his furrowed eyes' everything I cut out is redundant.
For a rare moment in time, as the cracks in the soil interweave in a diamond shaped pattern in the dry earth, coalescing into the terrain–

he thinks, that finally this life might be for him. He can make this life for him. 

The days have begun to feel like a song. A harpy, disjointed, strange sort of rhythm; fading in and out of tune.   like the song simile, but could also be tightened, I think.

The brass spurs, as they clink against the stirrup;

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

Boiling water as it bubbles up and over the lid of the pot, droplets of water falling into the crackling fire.   Not sure how these lines advance the poem other than provide context for the 'saddle' reference later.

He’d very badly like to go home one last time, he wants to try again. He can be different.   could also tighten this line

Flipping a penny in the air, It lingers overhead.

The spinning and turning hesitates for a single second as it shines, casting its mark in a brief interlude.   Overly poetic and also not adding to poem directly.  Recommend combining and using language that cues reader to message of narrator, such as 'he flips a penny in the air, maybe this time it's tails.'

Still, things are how they are. Once you've dug a grave for someone, they aren’t allowed to come back. This line is interesting.  the dug grave is a great image, but I don't think you are landing the finish.  Consider reworking the line, at very least, the last phrase.  It has real potential.

He doesn't check what side the coin lands on. 

It’s already been pocketed and he’s saddled up on his horse in the opposite direction. If you set up the coin toss effectively and then rework these lines, to combine these two, you don't need the last line.

Bound towards the perpetual sunset, and farther from what was once home.  

Hi FLT,
Welcome to the Pen and thanks for posting and offering a critique of another first before posting your own.  You have some good bones here.  I like the one line double spaced formatting, intentional?  The style is very narrative which lends itself to a bit of verbosity.  I think there is a lot that could be trimmed, some of which I have noted above, to improve the power of this piece.  Its relevance comes from whatever tension exists between the protagonist and their family/home.  Expanding the piece to provide more context might help.  I look forward to seeing where this goes and reading more of your work.
Take care,
bryn

[micah3801]

The light from the sun drips in auburn tinted drops onto the landscape, flooding his furrowed eyes with the glow. 
i agree with bryn as far as trimming this line
For a rare moment in time, as the cracks in the soil interweave in a diamond shaped pattern in the dry earth, coalescing into the terrain–

–he thinks that finally this life might be for him. He can make this life for him.
i love these italics. the difference between life being for him, and making life for him, is an interesting concept and one that could be expanded upon, that juxtaposition of being and making
The days have begun to feel like a song. A harpy, disjointed, strange sort of rhythm; fading in and out of tune.   

The brass spurs, as they clink against the stirrup;

Clink. Clink. Clink. 

Boiling water as it bubbles up and over the lid of the pot, droplets of water falling into the crackling fire.

He’d very badly like to go home one last time, he wants to try again. He can be different. 

Flipping a penny in the air, It lingers overhead.

The spinning and turning hesitates for a single second as it shines, casting its mark in a brief interlude.

Still, things are how they are. Once you've dug a grave for someone, they aren’t allowed to come back. 
i want 1 more italics in the same vein as the other two, and think the grave sentence or something similar could be one. 
He doesn't check what side the coin lands on. 

It’s already been pocketed and he’s saddled up on his horse in the opposite direction. 

Bound towards the perpetual sunset, and farther from what was once home.

i really like what you have going. what struck me first was use of adjectives (many) and use of ideas (very interesting). im interested to see edits if you decide to post them!