Memory Garden

[Todd]

Hi Jenn,

A few comments about your poem. I'm sure others will weigh in.

Above a flock of crispy, flipping leaves,--I get edgy when I see this many modifiers in a poem. They begin to feel like filler to me. I think the important word here of the two is flipping. I like crispy leaves but I sort of get that from the line about the foliage (not entirely but if crispy must go in I would look to convey it in another way).
the sky was tortured gray.
The soil was hard and gaping open like--I realize you're rhyming throughout but I'm not a fan of the break on like
a mouth in shocked dismay.--The picture you create however I do like. Shocked dismay almost gives it a comical read so that may not be entirely what you're going for (may just be me)
My scanty foliage shriveled brown and dry,
descending to the ground;--So, a repeat of the first line's content in a way. It makes me wonder if the repetition of thought helps you, and if you need both parts
determined to survive the world this way
although my roots were bound.
Impassive gusts of wailing wind would beat--I like that wailing implies sound
my face with no refrain.
The prickly dust and woe endured like this--Again I know I get down on modifiers but I like prickly dust quite a bit. Woe endured like this may be better replaced with something the prickly dust does to the speaker
until the day you rained.

At first, you hesitantly misted down,--I hate hesitantly. I would rather you use figurative language to convey the idea
sinking into the rift,
and then my birthing thirst was jarred unloose--love this line
to openly accept your gift.
In breaking sun, amongst the carpet-grass,
I blossomed whole, anew.
I spread my petals: pink, exposed and pale--Three adjectives in a row seems too many though I guess by now you see my bias. They almost work for me, but not quite.
to bathe in earthy dew.
Repressed no more. I flourished there unashamed--there feels like it should be cut
while feeling like a rose,
but seasons drift away. You would not stay
to save me from the snow.
The chill was quick and while I wilt I think--This is a too fast transition from snow for me. While I wilt I think feels awkward also
about this agonizing pain.--Again probably more vague than it needs to be
Aloud, I shriek, "It hurts me more to suffer with the
memory of your rain!"--I like the last two lines very much though the break on the isn't good. Content and phrasing though I like.

I liked the poem, even if it may not sound like it at points. Hopefully, the comments will be helpful.

Best,

Todd