A Way Into Their World

[busker]

So this is the first poem I've written (and I'm kind of on the old side).  It was just a couple thoughts I had for something I'm passionate about, and my girlfriend wanted to hear them, so I promised I'd write it out.  And frankly, other than a couple rhymes bouncing around my noggin, I found this to be more work than fun    But even so, I want to at least put something together, and I have a few questions.

- I'm not going to say what it's about exactly, because that's my first question.  Is it too hard to understand what I'm talking about? ... that's fine, you shouldn't have to 'explain' a poem
- If not, should I care?  Maybe I should only share it with people who already know what it's about, and they will appreciate being "in the know".  Then again, they might simply think it sucks and that would backfire.  ... obviously, if there's an inside joke involved it's different. But a poem should make sense to the reasonably intelligent
- I'm only speaking to the reader in the first stanza, where I'm talking about my "friend". For the rest, I'm talking to my "friend".  Does this become clear?  .... it's clear, but it's the sort of inconsistency that you'd ideally want to avoid. It comes off as sloppy.
- Is this even an OK thing to do in poetry, or is it just confusing?  Is there a name for that kind of switch?  ... poetry follows the same rules as regular speech. So while it's clear from the text that you're addressing the subject directly from S2 onwards, it also smacks of a cop out
- In the second stanza, would it make more sense to put the question mark at the end of the fifth line instead of the fourth?
... I think so, otherwise the last line is left hanging
Any other comments welcome - yer not gonna hurt my feelings (it's not like I aspire to be a poet.)
... see below

I know of a way into their world
Of reflective ceiling and cobbled floor
With arcing angle and line unfurled  ... punctuation needed, otherwise the sentence starts to unravel before this point.
Crouching and purling to implore  ... the fish's world a stream which might purl, but how can it crouch?
  my furtive feral friend

  ...looping, lifting, mending  

The meniscus warps like melting glass
What do you see? How do you choose?
An image flows within your grasp
Will you accept a feathered ruse?
  my finicky feline friend  ... your friend, from the rest of the poem, is a fish. So why 'feline'?

  ...falling, floating, wending

A jolt of ancient energy
Courses on a fragile thread
A brief communion - you and me
As you twist down toward your bed
  my fleet and flashing friend

  ...pulling, pulsing, bending

As tensions ease, the woods exhale
A hush ripples through the dell
I drink the scene, then find the trail
Until I venture back - fare well
  my finny fickle friend  .

Hi Jeff - this is a nice one. Could work on a few points as above