Thursday, December 29, 2011

2012-011 Prompts

He leans upon the old gate

They sing the sweetest, dearest songs

It is difficult, and thus it fascinates me

I have met many at the closing of the day

A great bird soaring

Some ancient scribe or poet

The great wings beating, then shuddering, then still

I saw her standing there

One day a child will laugh at this

Rain at one in the morning, utter, disgusting, uncaring

A sunrise comes to mind, a waking day, optimism

Many a muddy pit was once a thoroughfare

She rises, undresses, showers.

And we weep like children weep for milk

Big and dark, and darker than that

We are living, living, living, and naked.

With a wicked Jack of Hearts, the Queen of Spades

That wars might end and we became old soldiers

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