now fully nightfallthick fog swirled over the citydropping heavy rain transforming it toa world of umbrellas ….. The great thing about found poems is that they can really help you out of a writing rut. I write this one by shaping a paragraph from an Edgar Allan Poe short story into a tanka poem .
the book wasmore unassumingthen expectedplain coverorderly chapters follow howeveramong the pagesI smell thepungent scent of blood andfeel the scape of fangs on my neckmy own teeth sharpenskin grows palehands ice coldwooden stakes scraped sharp, suddenlythe book slams shut
honey sunrise
my roots feel tangled
most people prefer to turn on their porch lights
The stones were stillmourners marchedthrough the morning grey Casket held overgrim facesthe stones were still To foreboding drumsand forlorn trombonemourners marched And circled roundthe waiting gravein the morning grey
petals wither
The sun is long goneand the stars are beingoutshined by thebrightest moon of the year The air is coolbut the spray fromthe waves is warmerthen I expected The boat speeds us outto the edge ofa mystical realmKnown for mirth and mayhem We peer through theglass bottom, lookingfor coral, sea creaturesAnd the bones of ships Sunk long ago **** Written in response to Dverse’s Take Me With You prompt. Drop by to visit even more exotic places!
last night Iwas floating in amoonstone shimmerdarting anddodging with the bats, up highweightless and free until thepull of gravitydrains waterlanding meat the bottom of the tubbats fluttering by the window pane
I was supposed to write about flowers today
