I enjoyed reading this poem when it was first posted, although I do not remember who wrote it, and it seems improved now, more fluid.
Although I understand the slight misgivings from some other crits, I think I am happy with the 'almost' feeling of this piece, a half-realized moment of loss or disappointment, a memory that almost surfaces. That's how I feel at that time of day, a sort of tugging sadness, so I'm pleased to see it expressed.
I think Nemo is right that pushing it further might force it into too-muchness, a grand realization. Death to a small poem often.
Either way, I'm happy to look at this one again and to read the reactions of others. Thanks, Dee
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