Watermark

Thanksgiving 2020

 

            thanksgiving 

                    so many 

                    empty chairs

 

****

Snapshot Poem 12 November 2020

 

Tuesday we woke 

to high lines 

of snow along 

the birch limbs 

out our bedroom 

window. 

 

Two days later

snow has congealed 

to slush balls 

that fall 

to the ground 

with thuds. 

 

Frost shadows 

rest across grass 

and asphalt. Sky 

changes mood 

from fog 

to blue. 

 

They are counting 

votes again 

in Arizona. 

They will 

count again 

elsewhere. 

 

The country’s 

mood changes 

from slush 

to thud 

to fog 

to blue. 

    

07 November 2020

I am so tired . . . 

NaNoWriMo Update

As of today, 06 November 2020, I have written 10,033 words. I'm on schedule for "Just Write". 

In other news, we are still pretending to not know who our next president will be. 

 

Snapshot Poem 04 November 2020

 

This is a day I did not want. 

This is a day that does not keep its promise. 

Today is a day of disappointment  

 

and fear. There is blue in the sky, 

but it’s pale and diffuse. I watch 

 

my neighbors from the corners of my eyes. 

This is not a valley prone to earthquakes, 

but I feel unsteady anyway. 

 

Why do I live here? Do I know you? Snow 

is coming. I fear we will be buried. 

           

               ~sharon brogan 

NaNoWriMo 2020

What else is there to do in November during a pandemic? Actually, I'm not attempting a novel, but I am attempting 50,000 words. I've done this before. I have two very bad novels, one maybe-memoirish something, and a few odd paragraphs. This time, sort-of-maybe-memoir-bits again. Or, just a series of Morning Pages. 

We shall see. On day three, and keeping up so far. If I think I have anything of interest, I may post excerpts now and then.