when do you know a poem is finished? The poem…
words elude/ no shoes on their feet/ as laughter barrels down the dirty alley /distant vibes play pretend/ and the rhythmic tide prays/ i sway with the ocean’s beat/ rattles wash ashore/ again and again and again/ lap me up/ once more/ Monhegan
(working on this… like all of my poems posted. nothing is ever finished.
i think i need to tease out visuals. does the poem have movement? give you any sense of passion? yearning?)