Three days of 30 days/30 poems
National Poetry Month is a challenge now that I committed to a poem-a-day. It's amazing how the day can be quickly frittered away without a poem. This entire exercise is making me more acutely aware of how I spend my time, and how much of my life has been focused on doing for others. I'm working on shifting that focus. I'm working on learning to put on my oxygen mask first. Old habits die hard, but I'm working on it, one poem at a time.
Below are days 10, 11, and 12. Day 10's prompt asked that we begin our poem with the next thing someone said to us or the next text we saw. Day 11's prompt started with writing words on a leaf. Day 12 had to do with writing about a moment after which nothing would ever be the same - but from a completely different perspective. Ten feet away, 1000 yards above. next door, and so on. . .
Day 10
"Official Party Business
Open Immediately"
meant something entirely different
when we were young
and making
love salad
and yelling "Tawanda"
into the night.
At twenty
I thought
facism
was
dead
Day 11
I've fallen
here down here down
Still green
I am supple still
Touch me
dying don't leave
leaf leave
Day 12
"Saturday Early Early"
He drank coffee
waiting
sat in the car
bucket seat
smoked cigarettes
and watched the Zaxby's Chicken parking lot.
The stoplight changed
47 times
green yellow red
green yellow red
green yellow red.
A tow truck passed with a broken down red Kia on the back
thumping and dragging metallic sound
chains and tires
fog and oil
early morning smell
of interstate and access road.
The phone rang
he bought her coffee
and the fluorescent tube
over the register
in the 7-11
flickered
like hope