we line up in single file where the ocean meets land,
uniform in size and color,
some faded slightly more than others,
but all built along the same general lines
by the same people.
even in our unity
we each hold a bright array of secrets,
behind locked doors,
(once so brilliant and red,
now only splintered, aging wood)
that has aged our
the waves breathe
against our doorsteps,
leaving the ground smooth and wet
before being stamped with
as windblown tourists and
poets with eyes only for the
pass us by.
we stand patiently
hoping and waiting
for the ones who have the keys to our
to unlock us
and take shelter within,
to fill us
and make us whole.
I’m done. I can’t believe this is the last day of April, my last poem of the month. I did it! I actually wrote as much this month as everything I wrote put together from the last nine months, which is probably a sign I haven’t been writing enough. (ya think?) I really did have fun, too. I didn’t think I’d be able to do it, or that I would never have anything to write about, but thanks to flickr and tumblr, on the days where I didn’t have anything to say, I found sufficient inspiration. I can’t wait to start editing, now! I think in general what I wrote wasn’t bad, and I’ll probably save a few lines from each poem, although there are a few I might just completely throw out the window for now.
I might try this again some other month as well, later in the year, although I doubt I would post everything from every day. It was great motivation for me, and being forced to write sometimes brought things to my mind I probably wouldn’t have discovered otherwise. I’m rather pleased :)