For The Sunday Whirl: Wordle #131
At first, these words felt like gravel
in my mouth. Strange amalgam of old trash,
nothing else. Left no path to follow, only bits
of broken brick fence too high to climb over.
Vacant stare as mental tentacles stretched
far beyond normal reach. Finally, made note
of that old cheat:
“When you can’t think of anything else,
write about writing.”
Suddenly, everything came into balance.
Elizabeth Crawford 10/20/2013