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The twins I was given the twins at birth, the writer's gift, the writer's curse, a vision, a stump of a tongue. The twins will turn some mute sod and then you will hear your soul unburied, but not unbruised you will see tomatoes on your vines, galaxies seeded from companion stars stars shattering on the horizon unleashing their epic, wrangling over the unutterable now. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2010-11-04 15:28:20
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Matey,
I like the 1st and the 4th mucho. Never been much into gardening (3rd stanza) . . . like the "soul unburied" in the 2nd. So, we got the daily double. But no trifecta or late double. Nix that third stanza - it destroys the run.
TPL is like a high school reunion . . . I know that guy! (smile and hugs). And some ducking around corners at differences in the offing, too.
MSS