Take something you love, something you hate, something you don’t understand. Put them in the cement mixer of your brain and write a poem. Below you’ll find a response to this promt from Becky Ventura.
From the Spring issue of Peninsula Poets.
A member poem from the Spring issue of Peninsula Poets.
Well, this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Where do things go,
the sock missing from the dryer,
the dog’s squeaky toy,
the missing set of keys,
that original copy of a birth certificate
you need to renew your passport?
Is there really a mystery place
where lost things gather?
Is that what purgatory is?
Where is heaven?
Where did love go?
Once it is lost
will we ever see it again?
Ann Arbor, Michigan