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Nowy Swiat 17:00

A street in Warsaw
Rush hour walkers
Moving with purpose
Unheeding, uncaring
Of those who are the street scene.

A father, a son, a flimsy table.
Portable. folding legs
Street vendors.
Millimetres from mindless pedestrian flow.
Large long impossibly delicate vases for sale
Too many for the table top
Pregnant with the potential
of shattering finality
Worthless shards on the walk below.

Against the building wall,
The boy, half slumbering
Protected by his father`s arm.
uncaring of the world
Nestled against his father`s strength.
The man, with the practised calm of silent survival,
Surveys his priceless, fragile wealth.
Calmly defiant. cloaked in dignity.

Walkers pass; indifferent counterpoint
To the fragility brushstroking the moment.
The father resolute, the boy loved, the vases intact,
Their world, impossibly in balance.
His treasure
Held there in the crook of his arm.
The Maestro,
Passing another day with simple grace,
On the tightrope of life.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Last few words: 
I saw this scene as I walked this fashionable commercial street in Warsaw during rush hour.
Editing stage: 

Comments

along side you
at a pace
I could hardly
keep up
with you
as I never will be able to

loved

Thanks as always, my sweet friend, for your comments.

Joe

My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

author comment

I had to look your title up as I have never heard of it before, once I knew what it was it connected the dots for me, another solid poem I thoroughly enjoyed

some really great lines in this one and I cant pick a favourite

love JC x

“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats

Thanks for reading and commenting on this piece. I always appreciate and value your input.

Peace and love,

Joe

My mind's writing cheques my body can't cash.

author comment

I also looked up your title then saw the Warsaw bit in the first line lol.
Nearest I have been to there is West Berlin that was East and West when I was there, it was a very depressing place, though beautiful..
Lovely to read of the Streets there and what they do, I would love to go there, Yours Ian.T

.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..

A street in Warsaw
Rush hour walkers
Moving with purpose
Unheeding, uncaring
Of those who are the street scene.-- 'the street scene' incorporates more than just people eg buildings, cars, birds, smells, sky etc.

A father, a son, a flimsy table.
Portable. folding legs
Street vendors.
Millimetres from mindless pedestrian flow. 'mindless' seems an unwarranted assumption are the pedestrians all zombies?
Large long impossibly delicate vases for sale --this is a good sentence
Too many for the table top
Pregnant with the potential
of shattering finality
Worthless shards on the walk below. I like this too although there's too much alliteration, eg why 'walk' why not 'footpath'
Against the building wall,
The boy, half slumbering-nice words
Protected by his father`s arm.
uncaring of the world-whi is uncaring the father or the son, I know but you create an ambiguity that breaks the spell.
Nestled against his father`s strength. this line is redundant
The man, with the practised calm of silent survival, why 'silent' you rely too much on alliteration
Surveys his priceless, fragile wealth. why 'priceless' this is hyperbole
Calmly defiant. cloaked in dignity. overly descriptive you have already said he is 'calm'

Walkers pass; indifferent counterpoint -- 'indifferent counterpoint' great
To the fragility brushstroking the moment.--now you're talking
The father resolute, the boy loved, the vases intact, from here to the end is too consciously a 'conclusion'.

Golly I just saw you wanted moderate constructive crits, I hope this isn't too much, but all crits are really a form of homage, I only write about poems I like, your's captured something and here and there is real word power.
cheers
ross

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