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Baking Bread...

Big, fat flakes of snow
Falling...
Through the still air

Taking my time
Filling the coal bucket
From the dwindling supply
On the second floor porch

An ocean of white
Covering the yard
Hearing the buzz of life
Inside the apartment

Duty calls...
Feed the kitchen furnace

Warmth flies out the open door
To be eaten by the winter cold
The smell of baking bread
Escapes...
But is captured by my nose

Happy days...
The tyrant not in residence
The atmosphere alcohol free
I hate his stinking breath

Mom's smiling
Life is great...

Style / type: 
Structured: Eastern
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Last few words: 
More memories of Main St.
Editing stage: 

Comments

Warmth flies out the open door
With the smell of baking bread
To be eaten by the winter cold
But captured by my nose.

But you know which is which better. These are after all your enjoyable memories.
Thanks for sharing Gee!!

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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For the critique and the comment, I will take your suggestions into consideration. After all, this is the place to come for critique and suggestions, isn't it? I'm glad that you enjoy my memories and I like to share them with those that can appreciate them. Thank you, ~ Gee

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author comment

I can almost smell the bread, and i have a perfect picture in my head, Regards Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

I can almost smell the bread! I'm glad that you developed a picture in your head, that means that I did a good job! Thanks Roscoe, ~ Gee

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I can smell the bread but I cannot feel the cold it seems I am melting here tonight so damn humid, like the tropics, this is a beautiful memory put to words and that ocean of white ? is such a mystery to me never having seen real snow falls, the year I went to the mountains it was very warm and there wasn't much snow to speak of, not like the snow your describing here

loved this piece you need to start trying out more like this ... shows a whole different aspect of you

and I love it

love and higgliest bugs sis xxx

("Always and Forever") - (Never lose a holy curiosity.-Albert Einstein)

I have every intention of doing more of these. I have a great many more memories of Main St.
I like this mode of streaming thought and the idea that I can reach many people and touch their minds with things that they might have little or no knowledge of. Killer is off again
and I am not sure when he will return. I think he is doing a Walk-about in Aussie-land or some such thing. As far as snow goes, this is the winter that everyone is saying we didn't have! The only snow we have left is the slight residue of white that fell today and the ugly black and gray icy shit that was pushed into corners where the sun doesn't shine. Global warming is here and we might as well get used to it! Love ya, ~ Gee.

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about the suggestions that Rula made, but think they border too closely to making rhyme and that is the one thing that I wanted to avoid in these works. I want to explore this mode more fully and whenever I get to thinking of the next line in a rhyming sort of way, I back off and try to come at the line a different direction. The only thing I changed was; the addition of [is] in the line about my nose capturing the smell of the baking bread. ~ Gee.

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