Dunce’s Cap

CONIC hat, dunce’s cap, worn in corner. As student, always last, the
OMEGA,
CADET who seems destined for puniness.
CANNY strategist begins early: force them into deadly underestimation.

Am I the Exception

RIVETed, the listeners sit around the fire.
CREAKing tree limbs, teller’s voice the only sounds. Tale:
CACHE of gold, three weeks’ journey. Dreams flare in their hearts.
CHILLs as teller states: none have returned from trying. Each thinks: Am I the exception?”

Farewell

DRAFT of letter written.
JERKY breaths now. Get a grip for the edits.
DOZEN stray thoughts, weight of time increasing as days tick closer to zero.
BLINK, breathe: try to do the last things well.

Author’s pain

The
DRAFT of my latest kid’s fantasy still seems
JERKY – yet I’ve gone through it more than a
DOZEN times. I have to keep my eyes wide open; if I
BLINK the whole thing will send up a literary stink.