Oh, boy. I admit to feeling uninspired today. But I will not fall flat fresh out of the gate. Attempting today's prompt lead to snarkiness, so I've taken a different path today. Why am I trying to write a poem a day again? I haven't even tried since high school, and high school poems should stay in high school. We'll see. I'm not optimistic. I need to work forward even when not optimistic.
I want to see through words the other side of things
and reflect through sounds on the substance around me.
Pulsing beats of crickets and sirens,
undulating colors of clouds,
evaporating chill of friendship,
warming softness of distant love,
crushing flashes of imagination
missing aspects of inspiration.
This April fields growth from red hard Georgia clay.
This April feels up to plowing ideas from my dullen mind.