Third Sunday Write a Downer? (as Well as, as Usual, Late)

A moment ago the Goth Cat Triana just jumped on the TV table, in front of the screen, the news on in the background. Silly cat! Had that happened before I responded to this month’s Bloomington Writers Guild’s “Third Sunday Write,” as is increasingly often (and through my own fault, not the moderator’s) about a week late (cf., September 24, et al.), it might have put me in a more amused mood.

But it was too late — what’s done had been done. The relevant prompts this month: first “In the midst of autumn flowers still bloom,” combined here with the second, a quote from Eleanor Roosevelt, “When will our consciences grow so tender that we will act to prevent human misery rather than avenge it?” And with me in a not amused mood, here’s what I wrote exactly* as it appears on the 3rd Sunday Facebook page:

.

(I try to be amusingly cynical, but not this time out. So, with an assist from Prompt #2)

.

1. In the midst of autumn flowers still bloom.

.

Lilies, mostly, this October —

“When will our consciences grow?”

let’s be honest, never,

because is that not the way of the world?

The Bible says it: “an eye for an eye,”

that’s Exodus XXI, verse 24.

Is the Qur’an more gentle?

Or would it make a difference —

a deed for a deed,

an atrocity for the same,

it’s our animal nature, that’s all.

We could try to do better —

but not this October.

.

*Sorry (and a note, re. the italicized lines from “Lilies” to the one ending with “October,” just above, WordPress today seems to have decided that poetry cannot be printed single spaced. I disagree, so one must use one’s imagination).

 •  0 comments  •  flag
Share on Twitter
Published on October 23, 2023 16:35
No comments have been added yet.