Death Mask

[Todd]

There's something about your writing I enjoy. It's that ephemeral idea of voice that we all struggle to describe but know when we've encountered it. I get that here. I trust the narrator. Let me engage with your words a bit.

I wasn’t sure I would remember the house
an old photograph was all I had,
self seeded plants softened the cracks
but the driveway was still black and white.--This is an interesting opening. So from this approach, the speaker hasn't been around much lately. You can picture them driving through an old neighborhood. It's an interesting way to engage the past. The themes seem to be around how we deal with our past and the progression of time. There's a bit of regret here and also dealing with change. I think self-seeded might need a hyphen. Though language changes a bit and I don't feel like looking it up. I do like the idea though of things that have surrendered to time. It's a way of showing how we all breakdown. Even before the next strophe, we have the photograph and then have the reality. We have the impermanence of memory. This is a nice way to let your image play against your themes. I also like the last line of the driveway being still black and white. Still is a great word as it marks the age of the photograph. It also implies a foreshadowing of a black and white morality or understanding of events.

Arthur’s skeleton opened the door,--wonderful line and the next both for the reference to the title, the imagery, and the wordplay with Arthur's skeleton doing the opening.
his face gouged like sculptors clay
thin lines under cheek bones
thumbed deep into eye sockets.--thumbed works very well with the clay image.

The meniscus of old age bottled his vision--meniscus of old age is neat phrasing. I'm thinking of the joint/knee soreness and I get a sense of tortured movement. Bottled his vision makes me think of extreme glasses.
but he still had a Whiskey gruffness
that reminded me of forgotten songs
and pearl inlays.--lovely sequence

Pyjamas protruded from under his clothes--nice sensory detail
as he moved around the room to fall fireside,
touching each ledge like a child learning to walk,--like the simile
stroke is such a gentle word.-favorite line, favorite observation. Versatile word
The room had kept hold of its memory,--love this idea
veneered in dust and damp that crept out of the carpet--this feels a bit self-conscious to me. Something simpler perhaps.
slowly making it hard to see, hard to remember.--this seems like an odd outcome for the two lines above.

He spoke in bursts, bending each exhaled breath
to make the sounds.--love this phrasing around speaking--absolutely loved it.
he told me how much he missed my mother.--I think more of a slurred word sequence that gives the sense of speech would be better. That could be run together as one word, spaced differently or done in one word sequences as you've done here I'm indifferent. This shows halting to me but not difficulty. I'd like to see both.
“She
was
my
baby
sister”
I know I said and took his hand.
His old Jack Russell
lifted its head to sniff the air.
“He’s
fuckin
farted
again”
I know I said,
and let go of his hand.--Nice slice of life change up at the end.

Very much enjoyed this, Keith.

Best,

Todd