Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Word Throwdown # 9

In this next word throw down, I want you to speak a poem as if you are an inanimate object that brings voice to something.
In this one stanza poem, the speaker is the blanket cover of a bed sharing an old pup's secret.

I hold the furtive warmth
the soft sweet lingering
scent. The oil, hair,
snoozing drool. Your heart
content to secretly sleep
until the tires roll in
that familiar straining
engine sound
and you are wrapped instead
in the excitement of a full body wag
at the door.

-Brandy Lynn

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