rc cola cans only half full
your father’s urn, engraved and polished
photographs and paintings of trees 
a blue and yellow tapestry

i sit between these things,
run my fingers across your worn couch cushions,
tracing their golden filigree

and i listen to the banjo from the other room,
waiting for the voice to accompany 

flannel jackets hanging on a dolly,
a dusty record player,
chapstick and mint tic tacs,
ball caps with buttons

i try to type another line of another poem, 
only to hear your guitar
a melody i don’t know

eye drops and essential oils,
empty egg cartons,
a forlorn jar of peanut butter,
and a heart shaped ash tray

i pause and let the strumming
seep through my skin 
fill the spaces in my body
i’d forgotten existed

National Poetry Writing Month Day 3

Prompt: “write something that involves a story or action that unfolds over an appreciable length of time. Perhaps, as you do, you can focus on imagery, or sound, or emotional content (or all three!)”

2 thoughts on “sitting in your living room, i try to write you poetry

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