Here There be Dragons
#1
At the edges, the fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through sage grass like loose threads.

Burned out cars and abandoned busses are strewn like driftwood caught in a cruel tide
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees huddle together. 
Foliage mostly stripped. Exposed branches reach toward the tents pitched just off the road. 

The waves break strangely here. Sudden
and violent. 

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Its wings outstretched. 

The sand is everywhere. 

Each grain working its way into the cloth of this odd tapestry. At the edges
where the fabric frays.
"What I want in poetry is a kind of abstract photography of the nerves, but what I like in photography is the poetry of literal pictures of the neighborhood." -John Koethe
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#2
(11-23-2022, 01:47 AM)ZHamilton Wrote:  At the edges, fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through 
sage grass like loose threads.       I cannot imagine a connection between small streams and loose threads.

Burned out cars 
and abandoned busses 
strewn like driftwood 
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees 
huddle together. Foliage stripped.      mostly stripped adds unnecessary detail
Exposed branches reach toward 
the tents pitched off the road. 

The waves break here. 
Sudden and violent. 

A crow’s skeleton rests 
on a small island.        Don't describe things as odd or strange. How are they odd or strange?
Its wings outstretched. 

Each grain of sand 
working its way into the tapestry. 
At the edges, where the fabric frays.

There are a lot of prepositions immersing you into an environment without much to do. I've made a couple poems with this problem.  

Past tense and present tense situations oscillate between each stanza.
The reader has to shift gears often.
"Whenever is a really long never"
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#3
(11-23-2022, 01:47 AM)ZHamilton Wrote:  At the edges, the fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through sage grass like loose threads.

Burned out cars and abandoned busses are strewn like driftwood caught in a cruel tide    left by a cruel tide?  I'm ambivalent about "cruel".  Forces of nature seem indifferent to me.
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees huddle together. 
Foliage mostly stripped. Exposed branches reach toward the tents pitched just off the road. 

The waves break strangely here. Sudden
and violent.        Waves imply a body of water that is missing until this line and that confused me.  If you are talking about some other kind of wave, needs to be made more clear.  If a body of water, I think mention of it should come earlier in the poem.  I don't think "rivulets" would have waves, but what do I know?  Wink 

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Its wings outstretched. 

The sand is everywhere. 

Each grain working its way into the cloth of this odd tapestry. At the edges
where the fabric frays.

I believe at least one of your previous poems mixed long and short lines as this one does, so I'm just going to assume that is your preference although it does make the poem verge into prose, or maybe it's meant to be a prose poem.

I get a post-apocalyptic impression from the poem.

I think the repetition of first and last line is effective.

Not crazy about the title.  A little too familiar.
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#4
(11-23-2022, 01:47 AM)ZHamilton Wrote:  At the edges, the fabric frays. 
Rivulets of water wander through sage grass like loose threads.   inverting the metaphor here might work better, i.e. ...loose threads wander like rivulets...

Burned out cars and abandoned busses are strewn like driftwood caught in a cruel tide
on the side of the 101. 

Several birch trees huddle together. 
Foliage mostly stripped. Exposed branches reach toward the tents pitched just off the road. 

The waves break strangely here. Sudden  consider moving this stanza to the first or near.  Introducing the waves, ocean earlier would help make some of the later imagery more relevant.
and violent. 

A crow’s skeleton rests on a small island of rock. Its wings outstretched. 

The sand is everywhere. 

Each grain working its way into the cloth of this odd tapestry. At the edges
where the fabric frays.
Hi Z,
I think you have a great foundation, but I need more footholds to follow the understory of 'the pitched tents' and the 'grain working its way' and why that is significant.
Thanks for sharing,
bryn
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