Prompt: Start a poem with this line and fill in the blanks as you choose:
“The ___________ light of ________ filling station.”
Somewhere in the poem, in the middle or at the end, use this line, again filling in the blanks as you choose:
“She would never __________ and always ________.”
The smiles that emanate from her face are the light of
ten thousand souls reminding me that life is a filling station.
And I choose how to fill it.
Three houses down from my mom’s place is an old woman
I barely know. She tends to her garden and walks her dog, Lobo,
who is a testament to his namesake.
Between her infectious beam and my broken Spanglish
we manage to communicate. She waves vertically with loose wrists
that almost say, “Wait. Come here.”
I’ve made up a life for her, one where love resonates deep
within her wrinkles. She is the wise grandmother who warns
of Chupacabra in my sleep.
She would never merely smirk and nod, or let me drive past without
showing me that love is sparkling and always crinkles just like her eyes do
when she smiles.
10/2/12
No comments:
Post a Comment