I look forward to the evening sun going down

One day I will I will have very little money, even less than now.
I’ll live in a small kitchenette.
I won’t care.

My grandmother says all that to me one evening,
without warning.

We are standing together in the French Quarter, drinks in hand.

Setting sun explodes over Jackson Square;
horns, banjos, jazz, blues blowing somewhere.

My grandmother and I are drinking black Manhattans.
She takes my arm. I know she has more to tell me.

As hard as I try, I can’t remember if I consoled her,
laughed with her, or said nothing at all.

You held the suspence to the very end and then unloaded giving me a touch of the experience. Marcel

Thank you, Marcel, I did cut a little, just to be more on point. I appreciate your read.

Amazing. I would so like to go back and ask my parents and grandparents questions about their lives, feelings, insights, regrets, joys.

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Black Manhattens will do that to ya. Nicely bloomed by the end.

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Thank you, Tom.

Oh, if only, Von …
I try to tell myself, I’m having a do-over form the future right now, reminding me to be better
Thanks for your kind words.

Lovely poem Trish, tone, the pacing, and that so human ending. Connected.

Phil

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Hi Trish, what a lovely tender poem.
I really like your closing stanza, it adds the emotion that enhances those fine details that precede it.

What a city is New Orleans - i’m not crazy about this line as its very heavy on ‘tell’ and wonder if you need it at all.

Also, should the comma be after dime and not dance?

people are ready to dance on a dime,

Anyway, lovely poem!

It is kind of heavyweight, isn’t it, I think people can figure out it’s in New Orleans. Good to see you here, Niall, and thanks for the great feedback.

Excellent, Trish, the way you expand on those first lines.

Thoroughly enjoyable, Sandi, Liked th eslow unfolding of the tale.

In a full life there will always be some little blank spots. Sometimes because your mind has such clear recollections of other salient points.

Gyppo

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Hi Gyppo, thanks for the read. Yep, to the blank spots.

Thank you for the so human ending remark. I sure would love a do over with my grandmother in New Orleans; I’d respond perfectly …

After being busy with the NaPo challengs I came back to this. Reads even better the second time. Just a small suggestion I think you could reduce S5L1 to “drinking black Manhattens”. But, you know, that’s just my minimalist thinking.

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Drinking black Manhattans in the French Quarter with Gramma --priceless. You set the scene wonderfully. You let the reader into this intimate moment, but not all the way–and that is how it should be. I would honestly love to what you cut. Of course this is clearly out of bounds, but I would like moment to last a bit longer, if that makes sense.

T

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It makes perfect sense, and it’s not out of bounds at all. I’ll have to go look at the original; all I moved was a little fluff, but I think you’re right, it could be enhanced just a little. I’ll have a little think, as Roger Fizzerton (remember him?) used to say.

I enjoyed this touching poem a lot. I would suggest trimming some obvious words that dont add much and are obvious such as ‘less than now’ as very little is the issue or least swap them arounddrop ‘one evening’ S it is in the title. Leaving out ‘together’ in standing together as it is redundant. I would Julia to your first mention of your grandmother as it feels like the second grandmother is a different woman. Or just call her Julia here. Drop ‘I know’ the next words make that obvious by themselves and anyway it is unimportant what you know. It is important what you can’t remember. All of this is just opinion of course. Others will think differently.