Friday, April 17, 2015

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.