NaPoWriMo: Last Day Part I

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We went to the Imperial War Museum yesterday, which was my first visit. I was actually really interested by the pieces of shrapnel, feels like I’ve read that word so often in war histories and novels, Sassoon:

 and then the British guns began
With heavy shrapnel bursting low, and ‘hows’
Whistling to cut the wire with blinding din.

You can see the piece of shrapnel I was gazing at here. So I’m exploring the word shrapnel, similar to the small piece I Wrote on Day 19. Using Jo Bell’s prompts Days 19 and 24.

shrapnel

the kneeling of a prayer on toughened knees

the rapping ring of cold calls who hang up

blundering, shuddering aftereffects of dreams

that linger like the raddled headache of a hangover

shedding rain with your hands, shielding

yourself in heavy downpours with a plastic bag

a shying horse staring you out across a fence

the propelling lift of waves taking you forwards

a chorus of harps, the scrape of a single chair.

 

Check out Cathy Byrant’s In the Louvre to see her not find the Mona Lisa but something better…

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