A Clockwise Direction (revised)

[Todd]

Hello penguin,

Welcome to the site! Good to see you posting your work.

I've read this a few times now, and I'm not sure if I'll have any comments or suggestions to improve it. I enjoyed the poem and I'm not keying in on any real flaws. Here are some comments for you though.

I found the last remaining wedding photo--strong opening line
behind a doll in our daughter’s room.--great economy here setting the scene and relationships. While we learn later that the narrator has lost their partner to death, the "our" still conveys a sense of caring that makes you think even at this early stage that it likely isn't divorce. The first line gave a sense that these photos have been packed away or removed in some way. You start pinning down the context very early
Russian, as it happens, the doll that is,
though I read very little into that;--I took this to sort of foreshadow the germ (disease lines) later. I'm thinking that this is a Russian nesting doll, and I took this line to also point to things looking good on the surface, but a lot remains hidden within the layers.
there are layers of dust upon dust in the loft--I like the repetition of dust. It makes me consider at this point taking the later lines into account that the daughter is also dead. The line itself is also striking in that the narrator cleans daily yet this room has dust upon dust.
and I’m loathe to consider conversion
at this late stage in the game.--This line doesn't seem to add much and can probably be cut

I placed it on the bookshelf where O meets P;
I’d have liked it before your favourite author
but her shelf’s too close to the ground.
My books are in alphabetical order;
I wake at 7 to clean and tidy
each day in a clockwise direction -
starting at the front door and ending in the bath.

Here we get to the title of the piece. I like how this routine exposes the narrator's mind. This feels like someone holding themselves together through methodical process. That said, there is still tenderness here

I compare it to my parents’ wedding picture
that’s hanging next to the dining room door;
they had a bigger cake, more friends and relations,
dressed black and white, a formal occasion;
contemplative, no eye for the camera.
My mother’s fatter in the face than I remember,--This is also a sad line given the context
and isn’t that an ashtray beside the cake?

All of these lines read well.

Blow these pictures up out of proportion
and maybe we’d spot the germ of a future:
leukaemia, cancer, emphysema,
buried deep within a Russian doll.--Strong writing on these first four lines
How happy we appear! My Mum said never--love the line break on never here to somewhat contradict the first exclamation
had I looked so handsome, like Richard Gere;
perhaps that’s the joke we’re laughing at.--wonderful aside, good shifting of the tension from serious to light.

Behind us I trace the faintest whisper--this line helps the build up to the conclusion
of the tower blocks blown in ’88.
As we’re cutting the cake, your face--again, strong line break on "face". With the early disease lines, I think of surgery.
burns with embarrassment
or anticipation of the sauce to come.
I can feel the grip that you have on my arm,
as if I might be the first to depart.--sad irony

When lights fade I think I can hear you breathing,--again nice echo to the earlier "trace the faintest whisper" line
but it’s central heating or a noise in the loft.
I close the windows to keep your scent in,--This line gives certainty to what's happened. The scents (and corresponding memories) that are left behind are often striking
I reach out to touch an amputation;--fantastic line and observation. The missing partner in the bed would be a sort of amputation
I said we shouldn’t buy a bed this wide.
You never see pictures taken at funerals
unless somebody important has died.--and now we circle back to the beginning. There's an additional irony in the "somebody important" as the person is incredibly important to the speaker, but largely unknown as far as worldly fame is concerned.

I don't know if any of those observations are helpful. I hope they are. Like I said though, I enjoyed the poem.

Best,

Todd