It's actually the thirtieth day, the last day of the NaPoWriMo challenge, and this is my twelfth poem for this year (as opposed to the 21 poems I wrote for last year's NaPoWriMo). <Sigh> The prompt for Day 21 is to write a poem that repeats or…
It's actually the thirtieth day, the last day of the NaPoWriMo challenge, and this is my twelfth poem for this year (as opposed to the 21 poems I wrote for last year's NaPoWriMo). <Sigh>
Black as a little girl's shiny patent leather Mary Janes. Black as the ebony keys of a Steinway concert grand. Black as a hot dog forgotten on the grill. Black as the bottom of a lake at midnight. Black as Grandma's Persian lamb jacket. Black as the lump of coal in a naughty child's Christmas stocking. Black as a panther or a black widow spider. Black as coffee without creamer. Black as freshly-laid asphalt. Black as a raven. Black as poppy seeds. Black as the eyes of a pit bull in an animal shelter. Black as the darkest night. That's the color of my prognosis.
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