Happy Poetry Month Day 11!
Can you guess what the title of
my work-in-progress poem is? Answer below.
At first they rained down
and I stretched my dry palm
opened my mouth
welcomed each drop
they filled
my well
Pitter-pat pitter-pat
on and on
the well overflowed
I slogged through mud
now unhinged commas
swim in circles
and there’s a
dank dangerous stagnant smell
========================
Could you guess what the metaphor of
stagnant water might be in disguise?
The title of my poem is OLD EMAILS.
Ick, right?
I just slogged through a pile–whew!
