That day with Neil

Many boys eyes competed for her gaze

My own girl absent, I had not my fill

Grown cold long before her soft embrace

I was still young and she was younger still

Sitting in the sunset I recall it

Ancient Sunday sat on dry twigs and grass

Not ground, but lap for my ember

Her body warm, her eyes like glass

Pity or pride, she sat with me that day

And then; Nothing, both my hands retracted

Such a fool I was, I wish they didn’t

My embarrassment shone; I retreated

I rue inaction, my regrets remain

In my memory, still young is her flame

Thanks for reading a newbie story from a newbie writer. Your eyes and attention are huge support and your opinion as a reader is abstract gold.

This was my first poem! From concept to the smallest detail I would love feedback on how I could write this kind of prose better. If you have any notes on how you would have done it in my shoes my Insta PM’s are open, and my inbox is ready.

https://vocal.media/authors/james-durl