(NaPoWriMo was in April. I started the month planning to attempt poetry at least some of the time…but April turned out to be a high-stress and therefore low-creativity month. Ah well. I can still try out some of the suggested prompts, right?)
This is a poem of sorts inspired by the prompt for April 20 – write something using at least five words from a list.*
So show me, where does dry land turn to ocean?
The edge is slippery, elusive, lost.
Beyond the shore, the quahogs mimic stones.
Upwind, the forest generates owls.
Let’s quarry shells and build ourselves a house
Where owls swim silent overhead all night.