My poetry has gotten into a rhythm lately that I feel the need to break out of. I will have to think on how to change that. For now, my Day Twenty-Two poem is below. Optimistic or pessimistic? I'm not sure. I think it ends on a positive note.
Day Twenty-Two prompt for PAD:
Today is a Tuesday, and you know what that means: Two for Tuesday Prompts! Write one, write the other, and/or write both!
- Write an optimistic poem. The glass is half full.
- Write a pessimistic poem. The glass is half empty.
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| She Only Squeezes Lemons Now |
Fresh-Squeezed
She pushed glasses around
until she found the right one—
her favorite one. Her un-kissed
cheeks puffed out, filled with luscious
refreshment, wetting memories
of un-blanketed picnics underneath
a piney forest where he
held her hand,
held her heart.
Her toughened bare heel stepped
in sticky substance pooled
on tiled floor where she’d studied
every inch of his humanity,
a textbook’s crinkled pages, bending
against his will. She rested heated legs
against hardwood chairs, chin in hand,
wiping droplets away before they fell
to rigid surfaces beneath her, holding
precious consolation to her lips,
never letting them leave
the way he did.
until she found the right one—
her favorite one. Her un-kissed
cheeks puffed out, filled with luscious
refreshment, wetting memories
of un-blanketed picnics underneath
a piney forest where he
held her hand,
held her heart.
Her toughened bare heel stepped
in sticky substance pooled
on tiled floor where she’d studied
every inch of his humanity,
a textbook’s crinkled pages, bending
against his will. She rested heated legs
against hardwood chairs, chin in hand,
wiping droplets away before they fell
to rigid surfaces beneath her, holding
precious consolation to her lips,
never letting them leave
the way he did.
*****
Ooooooh. This is wonderful, Linda.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, De!! xo
DeleteDee-lish and achingly sensual.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you've described it. Thank you!
Delete