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 |  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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| my dear Mattie, in the back of my head, you’re still the toddler bouncing off the walls, yellow curls flying, sitting in the middle of a mess with the sweetest, (most devilish) grin on your face. I know you’ve grown, but nine years difference is a difficult gap to master. I was away, living my life when you took your first headlong rush into adulthood. but I see you now, with children of your own. your daughter is nine—growing so fast, so well. I am awed by you. the way your mind works— so fast, so well. the way you hold your family safe. the way you help them grow. this year, your package held a shawl in purples and greens. with every knitted stitch, I thought of you and marveled over you and loved you. no matter where our lives and loves take up—and you are so far away— I miss you and think of you daily. keep well. I love you, Rhyssa line count: 32 Prompt ▼ |
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