Tall chimneys thrust up brick red necks
their smoke black heads unblinking on the scene
for the chimneys have no eyes
no nose to smell out the waste
...
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Well, i have never been to London, moreover the old one, but this here has made me dream...of London at the time of Sherlock Holmes. Great!
someone from a dickens' story perhaps? nice scene (nice in a poetic way anyway) you have painted here! i'll send a few suggestions in a message, as i can't remember if you would prefer them in a comment or a message. thanks for sharing. bri :)
Sad but evocative. Enjoyed your descriptions of the chimneys and snake river. An excellent poem to come from the mind of a boy. Glad it got into the school mag.
You're definitely talented! I love poems like this, the story of the little boy without a name is captivating and haunting, as is the personification of the brick chimneys. This is a great write; I wouldn't mind reading over and over again. ~Nika
Very descriptive you made it come alive. Thank you.