ARTY ACTION

[mollybloom]

I want to write a poem for you, like you give me a sentence, quote, picture, idea, color, event, memory, etc. and I'll respond with a poem.

I'm hoping this'll give me the creative incentive I need to fuel through this month while I jealously watch everyone else NaNoWriMo.

So! post! Get a poem!

Comments

[gibsonhunter]

 

[mollybloom]

Sir Henry Cole
sat outside every evening,
on his chipped porch
that his wife once used to sweep
the leaves off every day before dusk,
and watch Jim, the blond flush,
the long furred mutt that’d crash
through every pile of damp leaves
in their barren gray English yard.

She died with little affair,
just nodded off one evening
in her favorite armchair
in the middle of darning one of her
grandchildren’s socks. Sir Henry
loved her, the way he loved
football and English beer,
but he buried her in a simple hill cemetery
with her best rosary and warmest
sweater and wept only when
the leaves came in at his ankles,
and there was no one to sweep them off
anymore.

Jim went later, shriveled and arthritic,
a stock of cold, affectionate bones,
expelling in the winter and Sir Henry
buried him under the snow.

[gibsonhunter]

Very good, thank you.

[mollybloom]

Needs editing, but I'll wait to do that. :)