Gritty Details

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #315

She Read Me
by Belinda Roddie

She read me like a book, and I was floored
by her demeanor and her presence, too.
She wore a smile that I soon adored,
though it was rare and seldom in my view,
for she assured that, when put on display,
she would not act the part for everyone
who courted her. The role that she did play
in public was quite different when, once done
with interaction, she retired with me
to her room, where the curtains were then drawn
so no one dared disturb our chatter. We
were honest with each other 'til the dawn
unfolded like an envelope, and then
we went back to our cues onstage again.

Today's OneWord: Fields

They say that if you find the fields of dying wheat just outside town, you'll catch a glimpse of a colony, where the inhabitants are almost human. They dig holes in the dirt where it's dry and yields no fruit or life, and when night falls, each ditch glows as if lit by a thousand embers or laughing fireflies.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017

Tonight's Poet Corner: Our World

Our World
by Belinda Roddie

Bake me some gingerbread
in the briars of October, and I'll
be a very happy stranger chewing
on a fat man's dough in a small café.
Ice cream sandwiches are for
winter, and hot soup's for summer's
panic attacks. Pop our sins back
into the oven: They're still fresh.
We'll eat them after dark.