So my self-set challenge to write ‘something’ daily seems to have naturally ceased with lockdown. ‘Old’ me would have seen that as a fail, but I choose to see it as a pause; like the dormancy of a winter preparing to spring.
Category: 366/2020
Sail
Below, you billow, Blue breeze, blew through Your heavy weighted skirt with a slap As it snatched waiting fabric tails And whistled wolf-like and whining Whilst wincing tethers clank in objection Bestow bedlam And cast across the gazing ocean. "Brief: 365/2020 project, prompt 'Sail’
Tent
Ten almost Eleven, you asked to be a Scout Den to Tent, growing explorer wanted out When you went, you grew braver without Me. You need me, differently. “Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Tent’
Waves
You were the boy That waves at trains. Saddened by every farewell. “Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Waves’
Spot
Blurred blemish marks Miracle of conception Birth. Imperfection. “Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Spot’
Mist
Maybe I missed you as both so lost in the midst of our own mist. “Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Mist’
Death
‘Death is not the end’ Dylan chanted, nor is it by chocolate. “Brief: 366/2020 project, prompt ‘Death’
“Expression 
You must be logged in to post a comment.