NaPoWriMo 30


In Medias Res

It’s time to take inventory
of all we have lost. If we lie still,
we can hear the hours
whistle through the empty house.
A spring storm moves in from the south,
catching us all by surprise.
So much left undone. We cling
to the psalm of structure like an ark,
but the truth is no day is promised.
Blame the weather and its proverbial
smooth sailing. Boy, were we fooled.
The sky is utter and vast, with more questions
than answers in each tiny bulb of rain.
How much can we really hold in our hands?
Beyond that, it’s beyond our control.


susan said…
Sad, but the lack of control does frighten us. Beautiful close to the challenge, January.
January said…
Thanks Susan. Happy end of NaPoWriMo!
Anonymous said…
Wow, I Iove this! And each tiny bulb of rain is an image in a million. Great way to finish NaPoWriMo.
January said…
Thanks Jopre. And thanks for stopping by.

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