Wrapped in grey overcast the sweet
wind of spring clad in the sallow thatch
spun upon the air puppy feet a naked belly
my one my only holds my shoulders with calm
against a conspiracy of idiocy of sit and stay
closing eyes diving into a memory of cherry
“Pops” sees the world its graffiti colourful and bold
when we came here we are a waving flag
centrism isolationsim naive nationalism
supply-chain management a skating rink
a maple tree a beaver-tail a cinnamon swale
I inhale a childhood dream a fable told
a warning a learning an unspent yearning
a paw pressed to palm don’t leave me ever
my heart vulnerable us never escape.
Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).
Today’s prompt: Day Twenty-Six: For this prompt, you will need to fill out, in five minutes or less, the following “Almanac Questionnaire.” Then, use your responses as to basis for a poem. Happy writing!
Weather: Overcast and temperate
Flora: Backyard. Straw grass, weeds, and new spring shoots.
Architecture: Single-family dwelling
Customs: Family dinner and family cultivation
Mammals/reptiles/fish: Dogs (obviously)
Childhood dream: To see the world
Found on the Street: Immigrants and families from the “Old World”
Graffiti: “Pops” as seen in Spain
Lover: My wife and only
Conspiracy: The ruling government (e.g. Trump) wants to keep people stupid and dependent so they need them.
Dress: Today, comfortable jeans and long-sleeve Henley.
Hometown memory: Cherry blossoms in spring
Notable person: Many, given our current world, let’s say Trudeau Sr.
Outside your window, you find: Normally, Parliament and the Canadian Flag over our Peace Tower. Today, a Norwegian Maple, a haven for birds.
Today’s news headline: “A Conservative MP’s accusation tarred a Chinese Canadian as a double agent”
Scrap from a letter: “This afternoon, I’ve been watching the quail on the front lawn….”
Animal from a myth: Pegasus
Story read to children at night: The Boy Who Cried Bigfoot
You walk three minutes down an alley and you find: “A dumpster and a fire escape”
You walk to the border and hear: “Protests”
What you fear: That I will lose Leo, prematurely.
Picture on your city’s postcard: A beaver-tail, maple-leaf, and Rideau Canal.
30 Poems in 30 Days
All text and photography © Dale Schierbeck
…. more of my original Poetry on EatsWritesShoots here.