Poetry Thursday: Where We Lean on Our Hands Looking Out the Window

This week's Poetry Thursday topic was to write a prose poem. I must say I often skip over prose poems when I come to them in a book. I like my poetry to be poetry and my prose to be prose. However, I thought I'd at least try my hand at it.

This has been my week of pondering the snow day. On Tuesday we teachers were checking websites, watching weather patterns and whispering behind our hands, hoping for an early closing. Today we got a snow day and so I've enjoyed Jamaican rum pancakes and laying on the couch with my valentine...and even working on writing some curriculum. There is something perfect about having a day with no obligations. It's a gift. Here's my poem.


Where We Lean on our Hands Looking out the Window

Kneeling at the thin computer glow, teasing out the promises of meteorology, the low and high pressure areas stretching across the country in swaths of red and blue. I watch the changes like a presidential election then reach one long arm to fold the grey sky in half, six times, and trim it with scissors. Triangles and ovals, thin slits falling down like hole punch rings and moons. The streets are lined in blank paper. Salt. Rice. Popcorn. Milk. Ceilings laid end to end. All this dreaming for one cold perfect day.