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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2081410-constructing-poetry/day/11-27-2018
by Rhyssa
Rated: 18+ · Book · Contest Entry · #2081410
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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#2065770 by Not Available.
November 27, 2018 at 1:21pm
November 27, 2018 at 1:21pm
#946410
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
November 27, 2018 at 12:10am
November 27, 2018 at 12:10am
#946375
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


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2081410-constructing-poetry/day/11-27-2018