A year's worth of poems, every week for 52 weeks, spanning 2023 and 2024, plus the year following, from August 2024 to August 2025.(provided I live that long, of course).
Thank you, Allan Charles. I've contested the Charlie Chaplin thing a couple of times, won once, if I remember correctly. But it's the kind of thing I try when bored and have nothing better to do - just doesn't seem to have happened lately.
There is that in us
There is
That fits not in
That somehow we’re an insert
From another place
In a world of balance
Like a bench
Placed conveniently by a lake
In a forest
A sore thumb
In a land of nimble fingers
A misplaced comma
In an eloquent sentence.
Not a gross intrusion
Or exclamation
In a crowded space
But an intimation of otherness
A hint
Of something lost
Or not yet found
So it’s only now
In the quiet places
Where silence breathes
And thought arrested
Finds the slightest wrinkle
In the ironed sheet.
We are indeed
In the world
But not of it.
Line count: 29
Free verse
For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 23 2025
Prompt: As per illustration.
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