Photo: lessonplanet.com
words,
like a drought-stricken desert
crevassed, cracked, parched
lie in piles,
crumpled at my feet
between loads of dirty clothes
i toss them here and there
furtively seeking
for an opening line,
an idea
they cascade slowly,
streak like bubbles
down the washing machine’s glass door
and disappear,
like so much dirt,
down the drain.
Tediously written for Tony’s prompt over at dVerse Meeting the Bar, where we’re invited to revisit any prompt from the last 6 months. I’ve chosen Brian’s–write a 55 word poem a la G-Man.
Victoria C. Slotto, Author 