For today’s prompt, write a direction poem. Of course, there's north, east, west, south; backward and forward; up and down. But direction could also equate to stage directions, parental directions, and any number of other interpretations. Let's all take a poetic direction with this prompt.
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Here’s my attempt at a Direction Poem:
I've got a pretty good sense of direction
when the lines are straight, when roads
meet and form myriad 90-degree angles,
which is why my good sense of direction
is better driving through the rural farm
lands of Ohio than the suburban labyrinth
of just-outside-Atlanta, where roads start
off going east and bend back to the west
for no logical reason at all, and street
names jump from one road to the next
(and half of them involve a Peachtree),
so I'm trying to say that I understand
Georgia drivers. Their sense of direction
is twisted up so that things are never
what they appear, and it appears to be
rubbing off on my sense of direction too.
Robert Lee Brewer is Senior Content Editor of the Writer’s Digest Writing Community and author of Solving the World’s Problems (Press 53). He long thought he had a good sense of direction, though that notion has been challenged often when navigating the roadways of the Atlanta suburbs.
Follow him on Twitter @RobertLeeBrewer.