Writing

October Poetry Challenge: Day Twenty-One

Puddle Hunting

Spitting drops of rain hit your cheek
So small and inconsequential
Like they aren’t even there

But you know when you get home
You’ll be soggy
And with that your brain thinks of hot showers
and hot drinks and hot muffins

But you don’t want to miss the call of the bird
Or the bellowing of the train

So you suck in a lungful of cold air
and you watch the kaleidoscope of pebbles
blur beneath your tires

You grin as your handle bars rattle with each large bump

You call your dog’s name and joy
fills you as she leaps the
ditch in a full sprint to
fall into perfect panting sync with your peddling

You ask more of your legs and they respond like
a Thoroughbred from the starting gate

The rain spits on your face and hands
The pebbles spit on your calves and feet
And you spit on what adulthood is supposed to be
As you gleefully aim for puddles

I was on a 19 day streak before a busy weekend and feeling under the weather snatched two days of poems from me. I’m a bit shocked that the days I missed were on a weekend when I presumably have more time to write, but I suppose that’s what happens when I get off a routine. How are you doing on a daily writing practice?

I’d love to see the efforts of your poem in the comments below! I understand that these are first drafts and I hope you offer my humble words the same grace!
Remember, Keep Showing Up!

See you tomorrow for Day Twenty-two!

5 thoughts on “October Poetry Challenge: Day Twenty-One”

  1. This was an awesome poem!!! These two parts were my absolute faves:

    “You ask more of your legs and they respond like
    a Thoroughbred from the starting gate”

    “And you spit on what adulthood is supposed to be” (that’s a great line!!!)

    I love you and so enjoy reading your thoughts 🙂

    Like

  2. Wow, this was such an awesome poem 🙂 !!! So visual ❤ I loved these lines : "
    fall into perfect panting sync with your peddling

    You ask more of your legs and they respond like
    a Thoroughbred from the starting gate

    The rain spits on your face and hands
    The pebbles spit on your calves and feet
    And you spit on what adulthood is supposed to be
    As you gleefully aim for puddles"

    ❤ Great poem, girlie! I'm a bit behind on the challenge but hope to post again today 🙂 XOXO

    Like

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