Prompt–Sunday, March 25

Put something on your hands and go about your normal day. Like a sticker or ink from a fountain pen. Write about it.

Fingers can wear cloaks
to protect them from cold
with the palm as a hat
keeping out the breeze.
I look down and see
there’s spilled ink
in the streets, tears
for the words
they’ll never spell.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: