Tags
201, direction, fears, fingers, floundering, needs, poem, prose poetry, snow, writing 201 poetry
Day 7
Assignment: Write a poem using the following:
Prompt: Fingers
Form: Prose Poetry
Device: Assonance
Direction
When I’m floundering fixedly on facing fears; fully aware of my shortcomings, I find you pointing proudly in the direction that I should go. Don’t you know that if I go, I go with the knowledge that I am not enough out there on my own? My needs are not necessarily manifold, but many are they and they wont go away without first feeding that part of me which hungers for your staunch support; stepping in line with me.
So when you point, please don’t point with those elegant finely forbidding fingers. Instead, firmly hold my hand, grasp it lovingly and lead me along the path where the bluebells grow, dancing in freshly fallen snow, in the chill wind of April’s noon-day sun.
~mew
