Later, still in love and a little drunk

[Sparkydashforth]

I like this, but I would like it more if it were less.

I walk your old neighbourhood.
A child skips towards the station
singing under her breath.......................These lines say it, the next line belabors the innocent/Spring image.
Buds swell on bare branches...................blah
 
Over layers of fact, no matter
what shadows live at the back
of flesh, this place once held you...............Yes you capture the mood.
Your body belonged here, your face................Blah

Distil this into a 6 line poem and you will have something beyond blah.

 
 



("I hope to arrive to my death, late, in love and a little drunk."  -Atticus)