My theme for this one was taking an unusual perspective on a commonplace object. Any guesses what I was writing about? This isn't the finished article: I intend to write a bit more on the end.
a checked slope curves down to
a dark edge
striated by glacial force of a thousand elbows
in a mirror universe
a hand scribbles
scarring the plain
separated from the shallow grey hill
a languid road
empty
reflects the blotted sun
nearing their destination
murky orange chains
skim the dappled landscape
Comments
i have no idea - what is it
i have no idea - what is it with you and poetry all of a sudden, bro? is it some sort of middle aged thing i have yet to experience being a whole five years younger?
I'm not middle aged yet, you
I'm not middle aged yet, you cheeky mare!
Poetry - at the start of the year, I made a pledge to write every day, for at least 5 minutes. As this is my blog, I decided to put them here. Ignore them, if you will, but you'll miss out on some fantastic literary creative work :).
This poem was actually about the strip of plastic at the base of a bus window, the bit which keeps it in place. I was looking at it on the way home.