The Dog’s Birthday (a Tanka) This day is special they say. I just want my breakfast.
Category: Half Marathon Poem
Don’t let your words throw punches
You always think You’ll have another moment To erase the pain left by harsh words Said without thinking. It was a silly disagreement But I left with tears Caressing my disappointed expression And your pride didn’t follow me As I hurriedly walk away. …
Bonded Trauma
My grandmother didn’t have enough time to float down the gentle riverbed. Society threw stones her way for the crime of having a unique mind. I hear stories of when she was “well”, and rich in joy for life. My grandfather didn’t have enough time…
Hour Six: Dear almost
Dear almost friend I would have still met you at our secret place to exchange our sweet sorrows and star speckled dreams, to imagine a brave world where we ruled, free from restrictive curfews and the necessity of social choice. How naive were we to…
Hour 6 – A Letter from Elle
My Dear, Sweet Sarah, I remember the day you said goodbye. With a final pause in the doorway, you turned to me and smiled. We both ignored the tears that filled your eyes. “I’ll see you when I get back from Scotland.” At this point,…
Layla (Hour 6)
In my life, I never had the words to say Everything I wanted to say to you How I loved our runs in the park Or around the giant table at home And all the yummy food after – beef burger and spiced chicken How…
Prompt 6 – I see you
Little girl with long braids, long limbs Fearless and faithful Asking questions I could not answer I am proud of you Always was, always will be You are now as old as I was When we said goodbye But I still see you Just as…
Hour 6 – Pennsylvania
why do distant mountains fade from forest green to blue? wandering the woods unafraid basking in the wildlife abundant questions of what and who and how grown into every tree and dirt path back in time, this place doesn’t change from the family photo albums…
Hour 6: From a 12 Year Old You
Dear Aisha, I heard we moved to a new house, Did the paint on the walls fade again to a wispy yellow? I know how hard mama tries to keep it bright and shining, But the walls were always whining, They often said we dreamt…
2022 Poetry Marathon, Hour 6
Hour six poem, off prompt: