Greetings and salutations; welcome to the miniature version of NaNo I will be engaging in this year! It's just a poem a day, every day, for the month of November, with perhaps an epic poem to cap it off. Here's the first one.
Morning, and I clean the best I can,
scattered wreckage from the night before,
empty bottles and cake leftover, the smell
of mixed drinks and frosting lingering,
Halloween candy everywhere, and pieces
of costume left behind. Outside the pumpkins
are miraculously unsmashed, and cold
to the touch. I take my morning tea
with them on the porch, feeling winter in
how with each breath the air sears my lungs,
seeing it in the steam that curls upwards
from my mug; this will be my last morning
in a tee shirt and no jacket. Everything
is quiet, and I sip my tea, leaning my hips
against the railing.
Last night I spent more time
reading than at the party. My heart simply
just isn’t in it these days. I was in bed
by ten minutes past twelve, not drunk enough
to fall asleep. A hundred pages and a headache
later I was curled up on my side, listening
to the party going on next door, to the voices
of my housemates through the wall, watching
light ripple across my bedroom ceiling,
and I sank into sleep like a stone, and my dreams
were full of water and the darkness underneath.
