In past years I have participated in National Novel Writing Month. I love it, it’s so much fun. The concept of abandon and writerly adventure is one I strongly agree with. However, my track record is not that great. November is an iffy month for me to have extra time for creative endeavors. I’ve won NaNoWriMo twice and failed it three times.
This year I wanted to give myself the magical power of The Deadline but I didn’t think I’d have the time for a full novel. So I’m taking a page (ha! puns!) from National Poetry Writing Month, a NaNoWriMo-inspired challenge that runs in April. I will write 30 poems in 30 days. Below are the two I have written so far.
For November 1st:
It was the time of morning,
that dresses itself as night.
During the time of year,
where the veil itself is light.
My footsteps dully echoed,
as I walked through the chilly air.
My hearing, sight, all reduced,
the fog enveloping me in its reach.
On other mornings I might have seen a creature like it,
on other days I’m sure it was there.
This morning is different.
A quiet tickle on my neck,
a quick motion from the corner of my eye.
I turn and it is waiting there,
haloed in the hallowed mist in the streetlight.
Not the small bunny returning to its den,
of other mornings.
This morning the dark goes on four paws
with thin figures following behind it.
Wispy, faint, they trail along as the rabbit
lopes towards the end of the year.
For November 2nd:
always eager for
more: words, games, naps,