L1 is strict IP - Jones Street is no spondee.
I admire the attempt to write a dull, drab, monotonous poem worth reading: all the repetition: every, each, every, another, another, another.
But there's too much filler, and it deadens the poem too much. Why "apple blossom tree"?
Seems like too many words for the same damn thing:
a single bush trimmed squat and round and so
symmetrically it seems manmade. No one
can deviate from others in the row.
The lines and rhymes feel forced, and I'm not particularly moved by the cliche ending.
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