OMG! We're already 60% of the way through November? C'est impossible! Even if you're just now learning about this challenge, it's not too late to jump in, but time is definitely running out. That said...
For today's prompt, write an "it's too late" poem. Nobody likes a quitter, but sometimes you have to "know when to hold them, know when to fold them..." There are times when it's just too late, and today is the day to write that poem--before it's too late, of course.
Here's my attempt:
My mouth is sometimes a cloth
that wipes clean smudges and similes
like metaphors found on glass.
The past is the past, but my eyes
trigger the memories she nearly
forgot, and her smile runs across
my heart beats like line breaks
in poems I should've written
before she left, though maybe
I did, and they still didn't work,
and my mouth is sometimes a cloth
that wipes clean the jagged edges
cutting black holes in my past.
Or maybe my mouth is a mouth,
and my mind just catches fire.
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...with Writing the Life Poetic, by Sage Cohen. This essential resource, which is always within my reach, contains equal parts inspiration and information.