my entries for the Construct Cup |
It's that time again. Time when I lose all sense of proportion and sanity and agree to write a poem a day following prompts exactly as given by our fearless leaders (aka Ren the Klutz! and fyn . I may not survive. But I will do it anyway, mostly because I can't imagine anyone having this much agony fun without me. Come join us! We have cookies. And possibly, straitjackets.
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I’ll be home for Christmas— in my head these words sing with train rhythms as I sit and watch landscapes passing. mountain passes climbing through evergreens with first hints of snow. I take pictures through train windows and send to Mama so she can wonder with me. as we climb, snow grows thicker until grass is covered—distantly I see cattle, dark shapes placid, munching, with bales upon bales of hay piled nearby in preparation for later storms. two, four, six, eight inches deep—tracks are paralleled by wire fences to warn of avalanches, but surely daily trains prove our safety. through tunnels we climb past all hope of cell phone connection while rivers tumble by far below—water shaping mountains. finally we reach a tunnel so long, so high that at its end, snow falls— a faint glitter kissing mountain air I can barely see through train windows as we head down, out of winter towards Christmas and home. line count: 30 Prompt 5 ▼ |
I came to life in a twisting, writhing coil, and I creaked with pain as I fought the hands turning simple boughs into beauty— until I caught a glimpse of me in the window pane. see me? I’m more than evergreen— I’m hidden berries poking unexpected red and the smell of pine and oranges and cinnamon. I’m a golden ribbon wrapped and tied into a bow that dwarfs your simple doorknob. I am magnificent. and as the snow catches on my needles, it gives me a coat of glitter you are unworthy to come home to. but I’ll let you in anyway, for the smile you give as you pass. line count: 28 Prompt4 ▼ |