In my old neighbourhood
I stop at a light-controlled intersection
that didn’t used to be,
On the corner
I see a glimmer of a younger me
in my safety patrol vest,
the stop sign at my back,
waiting for the whistle to spring to action
decades ago.
In my old neighbourhood
I stop at a light-controlled intersection
that didn’t used to be,
On the corner
I see a glimmer of a younger me
in my safety patrol vest,
the stop sign at my back,
waiting for the whistle to spring to action
decades ago.
My review of I Heart You, You Haunt Me by Lisa Schroeder, in verse. Of course.
.
A verse novel
is like dessert.
Not double chocolate fudge cake
or creme brulee.
More like
lime jello
or
custard.
You want to love it
because it’s dessert,
but somehow
it doesn’t quite satisfy.
There’s a lack of depth here.
The message is simple
and the path is straight.
Apparently,
I like more
complexity
in relationships
and characters.
More conflict.
Something
more.
.
Lest you think I’m just negative toward all verse novels, here’s my review of Wendy Phillip’s Fishtailing, which I thoroughly enjoyed.