Here we go, it’s the twenty-fourth day of our 30/30!
You know what you’ve got? Grit. Also, moxy. You’re the real deal.
Your prompt today is:
The wind’s always talking about
Guidelines, if you want them:
- Posting your response is not required
- Feel free to post your response 🙂
- This is not meant to be the perfect first draft – respond without hesitation for 5-7 minutes, then keep going if you want to
- While our prompts are geared towards poetry, we welcome all kinds of artists
- Tips & encouragement are here
Pingback: #NationalPoetryMonth’16 Round-up (Day 24) | Bonespark~
Setting the Pea Fence Reminds Me
In the swamp, the wind soughs through
the bald cypress, snakes its way past the
knotty roots to brush the hidden hide
of the alligator, ripples the water above
the deep holes off the bank. It tells of
rain to come and yesterday’s laughter
but here, it blows dry and empty, hot
and still with the dust of corn, the
powder of a crop that won’t be unless
the rains come for those brave enough
to start over and dare the early frosts.
A messenger, a harbinger then, if you
turn your face just right, breathe in the
wordless tones as it turns past the barn
glides through the iris, scenting the air
with melancholy, ruffles the feathers of
the mockingbird so that she hurries with
her nest building, heeding the unwritten.
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love this one too – especially the first stanza:)
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I particularly like the contrast between the first and second stanzas. You evoke so beautifully the richness and damp of the world of the swamp; then surprise the reader by immersing her in the dust and dryness of the cornfield. I look forward to your poems.
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Shrieks, howls, moans, whispers
about what? The wind
has no opinions, judgments, suggestions
concerning life on this planet.
Wind, breath, spirit – ruah-
what’s left to say?
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Seasons of Yesterday
Seasons come and go.
I keep on rolling with the flow.
Leaves have blown down my street
and they are in a pile by my feet.
Children play in summer’s sun
having so much fun.
Time waits for no one
as they say-
in the dreams of yesterday.
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