“Don’t you dig that hole.”

May 13, 2009 § 4 Comments

shedWriter’s Digest continues weekly poetry prompts on Wednesdays. I missed last week, but caught today’s (the prompt is to title your poem “Don’t you…” and go from there).

As you write, do you ever feel a voice just float through you onto the paper? This one did for me.

 

Hey, mister, that shovel’s old, been
sittin’ in the shed awhile. You’d have to
wipe those cobwebs and scrape
the blood-brown mud fer you could
dig that hole. Now I’m not sayin’
it’s not worth it, but you otter
consider where you’re headin’ first. Cause
the last time I went to dig
a hole, I ended up somewheres
I’d never been and I didn’t know how to get
home. I kept diggin’ and diggin’ and
soon I couldn’t even see the sun,
though it was tickling my lips
whenever I looked up. And I sweated
hard, dripping black pearls and
flinging em in the dust hoping they’d
grow like Jack’s beanstalk so’s I could
climb my way back to the white land.
By the time I got out, I was bleedin’
earth and sprouting mold. So be
careful, mister, be careful
what you ask fer. And clean that
shovel real good.

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