Bump over ribboned, buckling asphalt,

passing driveways scented by pine

needles and campfires, waiting

for their yearly visitors.

Vacant eyes yawn from logs,

framed by thin, plaid curtains, and plaqued

with dew. Weedy flower beds cuddle

welcome signs and hidden keys while

kayaks lie in murky hibernation.

This week, I wanted to play more with rhythm and line breaks for the W3 prompt on The Skeptic’s Kaddish. The prompt poem “Waiting for the Dark” was from A. J. Wilson, and you can read more here. These were A. J.’s prompt guidelines for the week:

  • Write a poem of no more than 12 lines;
  • It must include the word “waiting”

We visited my grandmother over the weekend, and she lives in a fairly touristy area, not unlike where I grew up in Northern Wisconsin, though her neighborhood has even more trees and even fewer people. I took the kayak photo after a little journey on the Chippewa Flowage with my oldest son, who gave kayaking on his own a try for the first time ever. Like his parents, he loved it, so I think we’re one step closer to family kayaking trips– yay!

As a side note, Word is convinced I’ve made up the word “plaqued”, but it’s the image I want, and isn’t that what poetry is for? 🙂

10 thoughts on “Visitors

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