Thursday, November 10, 2011
Hello all!
We are now in the days of darkness approaching at 5:30 PM.
Christmas music is playing in stores,
Leaves are turning into mulch on pavement,
And turkeys are running scared. (poor turkeys!)
Poetry club is up and flourishing and always welcoming people into its warm, coffee shop covered arms.
And on that note,
This weeks prompt is hiding.
and it even comes with a poem!
November Rain
by Linda Pastan
How separate we are
under our black umbrellas—dark
planets in our own small orbits,
hiding from this wet assault
of weather as if water
would violate the skin,
as if these raised silk canopies
could protect us
from whatever is coming next—
December with its white
enamel surfaces; the numbing
silences of winter.
From above we must look
like a family of bats—
ribbed wings spread
against the rain,
swooping towards any
makeshift shelter.
Remember! Poetry club is every Tuesday from 3-4 in the Hotshot cafe! Come and bless us with your presence.
We are now in the days of darkness approaching at 5:30 PM.
Christmas music is playing in stores,
Leaves are turning into mulch on pavement,
And turkeys are running scared. (poor turkeys!)
Poetry club is up and flourishing and always welcoming people into its warm, coffee shop covered arms.
And on that note,
This weeks prompt is hiding.
and it even comes with a poem!
November Rain
by Linda Pastan
How separate we are
under our black umbrellas—dark
planets in our own small orbits,
hiding from this wet assault
of weather as if water
would violate the skin,
as if these raised silk canopies
could protect us
from whatever is coming next—
December with its white
enamel surfaces; the numbing
silences of winter.
From above we must look
like a family of bats—
ribbed wings spread
against the rain,
swooping towards any
makeshift shelter.
Remember! Poetry club is every Tuesday from 3-4 in the Hotshot cafe! Come and bless us with your presence.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment