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 A poem a day keeps the cobwebs off my keyboard. |
| A place for the poetry that I will need to write now that I made a special book for it. |
The assault is over, and I am spared - or abandoned as unworthy, I cannot know. The ground is hard, but it is not bare, carpeted with cast-off shells, gathering below. The birds unafraid of the giant’s stature, attack his face and make it a meal. Cardinals and jays, it’s in their nature to peck and snatch with hungry zeal. And surviving, I can only fear that I will sprout one day and grow tall, that in the summer of next year I will be the object of their assault. Beneath these empty shells I cower, for now, it is the only safe place. But taking root, one day I will tower and the birds will destroy my sunny face. 16 lines Written for "Cards Against Authors" Week 1 \ Prompt Card: You’re afraid of your future self. Wild Card: Metaphor: Emotional growth as a fragile seed. |
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