So here’s the thing: last year, the arbor vine that draped over our pool pump fence died off, and I cut it down to the ground. But sprouts came up from the roots, and a couple of months ago, I tied some strings between them and the fence, hoping they’d twine around and find their way up. So far, no progress, but I have my fingers crossed. Here’s what they look like when they bloom:
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Today’s prompt is Go to a book you love. Find a short line that strikes you. Make that line the title of your poem. Write a poem inspired by the line. Then, after you’ve finished, change the title completely.
The line I selected is:
The sun hovered near the horizon in a final kiss before sinking ever lower. ~ from End of the Road by Karen Michelle Nut.
The Final Kiss
a busy but uneventful day ends
a fatigued me watches the sparse clouds turn golden and pink and red
against the violet sky
as the sun sinks lower
a sliver of moon appears
Venus (or is it an airplane) shines like a beacon
a swarm of stars like fireflies
twinkle across the fading purple of the heavens
and the corona lingers against the horizon
delivering a good-night kiss
before sliding out of sight