Monday, April 11, 2011

Our hope is only as strong as our shelter

The cruel April wind doesn’t howl.
It laughs at
his corrugated-cardboard hovel.

Dandelion-wine-stained walls groan
gloomy up against it,
as a cut-out flap flips to reveal
hums of empty space.

Cobwebs come
to what’s at rest. Here
the poorly grounded facts are:
scattered ash,
the misplaced and misspelled
scrawls he so feebly scratched out.

His paper-weighting
dance of two exposed knees
can't be crucial.

Brenda Warren provided another Wordle prompt for National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo). You can see what others came up with for it here.
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