
The window fills with fleeing tawny feathers. Fog rolls over dog-eared petals and dips them in dew. Yellow blazes against maroon, against wind, against thick, nimbostratus cloud-gusts of hail. Thunder grumbles in a way that sucks our stomachs into our chest and our eyes into doorways. Steady howling now, into the abyss.
This week, I attempted the W3 prompt at the Skeptic’s Kaddish a bit later than usual! The prompt was to create a Golden Shovel poem using one line from David’s poem, “Straights; or Expanses”. I picked the line “Feathers in wind gusts sucked into abyss”, so you can see where those pieces of his line appeared in the ends of each of my lines. I had to change “sucked” to “sucks”, and I’m not sure if that’s allowed (:D), but I think it worked besides that. Maybe. I had fun considering the tone with this one, as I prepare a lesson for my students about tone in their narrative essays, the first assignment we’ll look at as the school year begins this week. π
I love the tone of this piece and the line yoy chose from David’s poem worked so well too..πππ
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Thank you!
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I’ll let the sucked-sucks thing slide, Sarah π
This is gorgeously rendered!
β€
David
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Thank you!
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missed the moment
a heady time to stop to foment
lament
of missing out too!
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