1113 Tolkien Lane

[alonso ramoran]

1113 Tolkien Lane 
 
These undusted corners earned  
our thanks for giving comfort 
in exchange for unfamiliarity
and our worried conversations
as momentary tokens.  
            The heights we dated 
on my doorway were a listless 
brush's stroke away from being 
beneath forgetting's glaze of white, 
like storm clouds blowing over 
yesterday's blue sky.  
                        Though brushes  
can't paint over when and where 
my four-legged best friend had 
collapsed and died, or when  
my mother first brought my sister 
to this darker place, the absence 
of furniture and markings should  
be enough for the succeeding owners; 
it was enough for us.

[Keith]

Hi Alexorande
I get the sense of one last look at the empty house before you leave it, and you have some solid lines in the first stanza that sets the tone of not such a happy place, there is an underlying apathy throughout the poem that hints at something darker about the place, for my read I saw it as a place where a split family ended up in rather than a much loved home.

I enjoyed most of your phrasing, especially undusted corners earning their thanks and forgetting's glaze of white, very nice and I also like the storm cloud simile, I guess despite my enjoyment of the piece, its phrasing and non commitment, I wanted more than just the feelings. I wanted more understanding of what the house ment to the N.

Best Keith

[jerianne7]

Hello Alexorande,
I really enjoy this piece and the ability it has to take the reader somewhere personal to them, it isn't too specific. The metaphors you use are very well worded and clever, I really appreciate the thought you put into them. My only critique is I would love to know how personal this piece means to you as the writer.

-Jerianne

[alonso ramoran]

Hey Keith,

Thanks for your feedback. I did think I added--at the least--a hint as to what the house meant to the N in lines 15-18, but as you said, I was going for the more bittersweet feeling of taking one last good look at a house you used to call home. 

Best, Alex