Literary journal entry -- NEED FEEDBACK PLEASE!

My class is putting together a literary journal, and I was thinking of submitting this.  I won't be able to workshop this, so I need critical feedback please!

(grace.)

The signs were simple

the yellow envelope an easy miss

among the fallen autumn leaves, 

                       I wasn’t sure at first 

                      but you move every month like clockwork                            

                      when the sweeper comes.

a waiting companion

unnoticed in her silent patience,

ever faithful that the bowl would be filled. 

                     She depended on you, 

                     but never barked demands

                     of your tired old bones.

A missed encounter

caused little worry,

                          They waited there by the third bench, 

                          just like every other time.

except in concert with a broken routine.

                      That day something was wrong.

Somehow you knew, even still, you were afraid to ask,      

afraid to disturb the solitude.

                   Alert piqued my instincts,

                  but I was sure I was imagining things, .

You knew the wall I built.

                               so I waited.

Not brick for brick, 

                                I never knew the things you loved,

not post for post,

                            or even if you had a family, 

but somehow my history imprinted on you, 

split through the wire diamonds between us.

                                    yet the pleasantries exchanged over the fence

                                    revealed more than what you thought I could see.

Not just this time, 

but always,

and especially this time 

you knew.  Somehow you knew.

I heard you climb the crumbled concrete

not once, but three times,

each step echoing the rap against the hollow door.

                       At first, it was a formality,

                       just to appease my conscience.

                      It was the silence that triggered the alarm.

I heard you call my name

from the red encrusted carpet,

                         I announced our presence at first approach,

                        then again through the darkened window.

I heard you call.

                           I repeated your name,

I had no voice,

                         but you didn’t answer.

but I heard you call.

                         You didn’t answer.

And then grace brought you through to me

to kneel by my side,

to speak the words through stagnant air.

                               The back door, it was open,

                               and I saw you lying there.

                               The actions were born from instinct.

They floated easily,

like a script rehearsed,

soothing in predictability.

                        We’ll take care of this, 

                        please don’t worry.

                       There’s no need to be afraid.

To speak the words,

                                 Everything’s going to be okay.

the last I heard before the time expired.

                             I promise.