A map, a wonderful reminder hung on the wall;
a remembrance of good times and friendships.
Remember the bend in the river right here?
That's where I got my black eye.
That flight of locks, brutal,
but one of the best times I have ever had.
Plays, and long nights of laughter.
Ribbena and bangers and mash have become one of my favorite meals.
2 comments:
You're getting better at the concrete. The last half of the first stanza and the first three lines of the second stanza make it real to me.
The first line of the first stanza, though, still throws me for an abstract loop. What counts as "wonderful"? And why "reminder" instead of "memories"? If you expanded the concrete images you start using in the second verse, I think the wonder of the memories will speak for itself.
The last two lines of the second stanza rather strike me as hardcore prose with line breaks.
I want this to be longer, honestly. And if you stick with the images, I think this could get even better.
Post a Comment