This is yesterday’s poem; I accomplished a good many things yesterday, but posting wasn’t one of them. The Emperor from the Zombie Tarot was the prompt. (Click here to see the card.) I tried to make this a haiku, but the last line just seemed clunky with more syllables. If you think of a five-syllable line that works, please post it in the comments.
Good advice
Whatever happens
my son, you do not open
the front door.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
Today is the NaPoWriMo halfway point, and I feel pretty good about my participation this year. I’ve only missed posting one day: yesterday, because yesterday’s poem was a little too ambitious for the time I had to devote to it. I couldn’t give it enough shape to even make sense. I’ll keep working, though, and it may yet make an appearance this month.
As if to reward me for refusing to panic that I didn’t have a post yesterday, today’s poem popped up almost fully formed. The prompt was the Five of Cups from the Zombie Tarot. (Click here to see the card.)
Remnants
The dead do not always depart. They linger
in the notes of a song, the seasonal changes
of light, the blooming of a particular flower.
We feel them hovering, watching, and we wonder
what they want from us, why they cannot leave us
to bury the guilt with our grief.
Welcome, global readers and poets!
The Daily Compost 