The Blue Hour

I love this poem!

It's brilliant. I love the imagery. I originally read it because I loved the title (I have a poem with the same name; I'll post it. It's not as good as this one) and I love that time of day, but I just gobsmacked me. I swear I could smell cut grass. Go you good thing :).

so good

I have no suggestions for improvement. You master the art of active verbs, no pitiful excuse for gerund-hounding here. a bit surprised at one thing..., ( you may know why). as always, excellent work from you.

~~ M

excellent

It's a very well-written and heart-felt poem. I don't know what "cast coast" means, but I'm sure that's my failing and not yours. I like the phrase "song of dry leaves" and the section: "I walk in twilit thought past the plaster Marys-
Our Ladies of mown lawns - O virgin blue, pure, sublime.
Their painted fleshtone faces face green eternities."

I read this as suggested, 1201. Powerful, not overdone as many poems of this ilk can be. "Realize I- I- we who twist towards home" sets up the climax so well. The last stanza stays with you, and you can't help repeating it again and again. Even the title is rich and stays with you.

superb sonics

I particularly liked "the blue dusk of the sky
drew down deserted streets" as an effective image. There are several here. I think in your third stanza, the action becomes the victim of overdrawing the scene, making the whole effect muddied. Overall a pleasurable read, and good to think of Rybka who was kind to me when it really mattered.

CHANGE THE ATHOSPHERE

and colors and shadows are altered, TK U MLJ LV NV