After yesterday's whiny post, I find I actually managed to come up with two today. Setting the words down on paper during a coffee break at work helped (instead of waiting until I got home).
I'm hoping to play catch up this weekend, and visit all the other participants to see what they are doing with the prompts. I've only had time for a few so far.
One of these results from my musings on the possibilities of today's prompt at Poetry Thursday - "hollow" (yesterday's prompt, by the time I post the results). The other is a description of a scene near my work, into which I drop the word - whether it belongs there or not, I haven't quite decided.
You keep on rewriting
the book of your life. At each retelling
you become more tragic.
The cover bears illustrations
of delicate colours and haunting beauty.
Do not read it any longer. Keep it in the background
to enhance your decor, hollow out its pages,
use it as a hiding place
for your most secret key.
The leaves are falling from the trees
and all the colour has fallen out of the sky.
It is a landscape in black and white,
but the fields are from the studio
of another photographer - a study in sepia.
Tall seedheads scattered among the grasses
flocks of brown birds fly up and perch
on the backs of the sheep, brown with dust.
Over beyond the plains
the inky blue mountains
scroll across the horizon
like a painted backdrop. A hollow wind blows
from the proscenium arch.