read write poem napowrimo day 9. your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to use at least twelve words from this list: flap, winter, torch, pail, jug, strum, lever, massage, octopus, marionette, stow, pumice, rug, jam, limp, campfire, startle, wattle, bruise, chimney, tome, talon, fringe, walker; Include: (1) something that tastes terrible; (2) some part (from a few words to several lines) of a previous poem that didn’t quite pan out; and (3) a sound that makes you happy. day 9 was a challenge to complete. this one took most of the day to form and fit a story that was worth revealing.
photo: diesmali, flickr
resisting the warmth of the glowing campfire the willowy walker began his chant imparted from the verbal echoes of the elder voices. uncorking the soft remote, his closed eyes searched the roomy skies pulling hard on the lever of long distance. happiness slowly smiled intrados as his body responded to the rural rug beneath lifting upward acknowledging the familiar strum of his beating heart. detecting the ubiquitous utterances of the sacred tome the talons of time embraced his breath leaving him instantly limp. crossing the invisible the flap of resistance released bringing back his body. awakening to a bitter taste of buried burning bones he knew he was near his resting place. in the clearing of creation he could see the fiery torch of purple and gold leading him heavenward. with a startle of remembrance he began to massage the bruise of last week’s circle dance as the beating drums swam along the stars. hidden in the folds of his memory shuffling his feet along side her who sighs to the wailing white moon he who is soon to be a starry host, polaris.