In Spring, we find our senses becoming heightened. Write a poem that involves a sense (touch, sound, etc.). Or it could be a sense of direction, common sense … what ever makes sense to you, write about it.

Marie Elena’s Sense

A Spring Internment

 We buried you today,

lowering you into

the short space

between wives.

 I sensed murmurings

among the living

and the dead –

the air dripping with lilac

and admonition.

 “She wasn’t even gone a full year,

when he began seeing

h   e   r.”

 Whispers breathe down my neck,

or perhaps it is the night air,

 but I realize life is too short

to concern yourself

with who lies in the grave

next to you.

WALT’S TWO SENSE:

All my thoughts converge

random ideas bombard

making little sense.