Somewhere, over the horizon where the cranes fly to, we’ll meet there
You had said me, when I had asked once what if we get departed, after a laugh.
Somewhere, when the moon will be full on the autumn eve, I’ll meet you there
I hadn’t said this to you as your words had started becoming dull for the whiskey.
Significant they are not as they were few years ago; dull and dusted you’re there
In the memoirs of my life which I’ll put down on the pages when they’ll be turned
Over by the autumnal winds–decades later or so, when you will be just a phase.
Written for Day 12 of National/Global Poem Writing Month 2019.
Our daily (optional) prompt! This one is based on a dream that the poet Natalie Eilbert had. In the dream, she was taking a poetry workshop in which each student had to bring in two objects from home – one significant and one dull. The students then had to give away or destroy the significant object, and write a poem about loving the dull thing. Today, we’d like to challenge you to write a poem about a dull thing that you own, and why (and how) you love it. Alternatively, what would it mean to you to give away or destroy a significant object?