Tuesday, 9 October 2007

An Original

I'm taking a Creative Writing class this semester and we are now into our section on poetry. This poem came about from an exercise using word groups. The group was: moon, prohibit, whiskey, compass


Shaming Swim

Never before had I crossed Whiskey River
its waters brown with subtle rage.
But drunk on love prohibited
I floundered and struggled over.
The moon shone bright on my trespass
and I was spotted straight away.
A wasted night, a wasted life
spent following my misdirected compass.

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