The exercise:
Write a four line poem about something that has been: knocked loose.
Mine:
They cleaned it carefully but a stray dust brush
Stroke knocked its tracking chip loose.
Back home The Master swore, feeling like he was
Being fitted for a noose.
2 comments:
As promised last time, here's all of part II so far, so that you can get a feel for the whole story. I might do it again when we reach 8 stanzas... or I might forget :)
I see the Master is not forgotten but now has a problem in that he can't track Buddy directly and will just have to rely on news reports to see if he's on track. Or send Buddy II out I suppose -- someone must be making the Master's breakfast for him. Which would probably cause mayhem....
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The timbers creak, the rigging snaps; the air
Is filled with salt. To North and East the waves
Mount up: the ship turns South to race the storm
— it dare not halt — and lightning strikes the sea.
Impediments are all around: dark rocks
On which a ship can run aground, pale sand-
Bars where old mermaids sing; and far too close
The whirlpool called The King. St. Elmo’s fire
Is like a dancer, leaping from the masts.
The Sailor shouts instructions to the bu-
sy crew, and from the Crow’s Nest comes a cry:
now land heaves into view. The map denies
That anything exists here in this place,
But land is resolutely taking up
This space. The ship approaches calmer seas
As something gets knocked loose. The Sailor swears.
Greg - Buddy II... no, I think I'd need more than a year if I went that direction, haha.
Thank you for putting this together, it helps a lot. Maybe I should return the favor at some point...
Hmm, I am intrigued by this discovery of previously unknown land. I'm sure it will all go well for everyone involved though...
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