NaPoWriMo - day seventeen

in honour of [national] haiku day, i wrote some haiku:

on the drive to work

sky aglow with wash of sun

the road a river

*

so many worries

things we hope to destroy

silence the quickly

*

your wounds are trophies

you carry in your pockets

stop polishing them

*

fear sneaks through back doors

and with a zealot’s purpose

you make it your home

*

feet are lead laden

reawaken the dance

prisoner of hope

Late at Night by Gregory Orr - NPM17

As the stone wrote, ants swarmed over its feet.

It was trying to write a story that began:

"The wound is the only cup

from which to drink clear water."

It heard a far-off singing. Turning, it saw the woman

dancing barefoot on a circle of ground glass.

It wanted its hands and its feet to drop off.

It wanted to curl up in a ball.

But then it heard her voice and she was saying:

"The wound is not a cradle to lie down in."

 

Orr, Gregory "Late at Night" Burning the Empty Nests. Pittsburgh: Carnegie Mellon University Press, 1997. 66.