I am not as enthusiastic about this one. Titled Postcard it begins with a straightforward description of the picture. It resolves on a not-particularly-unexpected sentiment--almost a cliché in the world of postcarding.
My favorite line is the same as Gail's about the water. Unlike Gail, I try not to think when I read, but this one had me also a bit distracted trying to place the place... much as I tried not to.
The line I like least is the one made up of two big gum-chewy words.
Often, and there is absolutely nothing to this, a lack of uniformity of line lengths in a sonnet indicates a kind of artistic short fall.
Rick
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