The Beginning
The day begins poorly holding wisps of Dreams
And determined aches in all of my joints.
The black nose and tan curls of the dog wake me,
His eyes flush with mine,
His head propped on the edge of the bed.
The grey damp of morning sticks to my lower back
And it is a hobble to the kitchen door to let him run.
I pause on the back deck looking down at the garden.
Where even in the dawn it is hard to write,
When there are weeds crowding between the beans.
In response to Moriah Rivera-Lawrence whose prompt was; “New Beginnings”.
The prompt for the next part of The Never Ending Poem is: Growing
I will tag five people who I think would write some awesome stuff, and I want everyone who feels the pull to write about the topic too! The only rule is: tag me in it so I can see, and tag five others to keep this rolling!
To continue I tag
Wendy A. Farrand Anna Breslin The Crimson Citadel Susannah MacKinnie Timothy O'Neill
