Monday, April 18, 2016

NaPoWriMo, Day Eighteen, Poem Fourteen



Heft

Hard room
high and mighty
harder than
their own
first time.

Any weight
motion enough
to shift shadow
too much.

Up next
too much
own words
almost.

The down
notched pegs
wonder
why name
names when
we could
just whisper.

Her job
thrown down
hoity-toity tots
sizzle giggleless
in back.

Brick oven act
intact
way of sheer fact.


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