In my dreams, withered leaves shaped like crumbled persimmon hands fall at my feet. They join the spent ballots that have already landed and lay trampled beneath my soles. These crowds of little martyrs give up their ghosts, singing the blues as they tumbled down to Earth, weary and relieved of their former use.
My rearview mirror has captured a frizzy-haired little brown girl wonder that stuffs entire libraries inside her jacket. She runs, trying to keep up with the adults who have forgotten that she is following them. Errant books slide out from inside the crawl space between fabric and body and escape, dropping to the ground behind her.
Consider the lilies and orchids of a dream. Royal colored blooms of violet and gold open their secrets to the sun, revealing velvet throats housing pistil and stamen vocal cords. I spend my dreamtime plucking flower heads from their frail green necks and making them kiss, dumping pollen songs into their shameless, eager mouths.
Written 11/16/12 and 11/19/12
© 2012 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.
These poems were written for We Write Poems Prompt #132: Three Perfect Sentences. We were instructed to write poems consisting of three perfect sentences each. I’ve written eight so far, but wanted to share three of them out of this collection.
These turned into short prose poems, each one paragraph, each three sentences long. For this exercise, I define a perfect sentence as being one which expresses either a) one complete thought, or b) one complete poetic image. I tried very hard to avoid overly complex, compound, or run-on sentences, although in some cases the image or thought I expressed demanded some complexity in its wording. I have an idea to keep writing more of these and turn them into a chapbook. I’ll keep you posted.