poetry critical

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coffee still flows from cold to hot
Virgil

nature is restless
 1
from soul to soul.
 2
 
 
its noon;
 3
flurries surge
 4
onto the game
 5
gloves of each streetkid.
 6
 
 
a whistling man
 7
with an unclean mug
 8
threw something
 9
that missed the garbage can.
 10
he stops, kneels down
 11
and returns it properly;
 12
care is still common.
 13
 
 
a mix disk buried
 14
in slush blankets
 15
without a scratch
 16
by snow's fastidious craft.
 17
 
 
a bird descends wires
 18
through plastic
 19
and filters to find something
 20
that's hers.
 21

18 Jan 07

Rated 7.5 (7.5) by 2 users.
Active (2): 7, 8
Inactive (0):

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Comments:

Great opening. Drew me in immediately.

I feel like there should be a semicolon and not a comma at the end of line 12.

The transistion from lines 3 to 4 feels kind of choppy.

Did you mean "factitious" on line 17?

Sorry to be so negative. I did enjoy this.
 — the_recluse

nice.
 — listen

What in the name of Harold Ramis were you mowing when you wrote this piece? 7/10
 — Henry

^ ans.- Moe Green.
 — unknown

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