La Peregrina



Day Twenty



A child’s game it seemed,
a line scratched into earth,
not an escargot’s spiraling swirl
but a straight, no nonsense incision

Lilacs bloomed early
at winter’s end, a season
that never chilled

Spring lolloped
over outlined angles,
triangles, rectangles,
ignoring crisp precision to
cast clouds of purple
brume across the day,
a honeyed balm,
a Pilgrim girl’s
scotch-hop from
purgatory to heaven,
plum child’s play
under Dante’s smile.


Author’s Note:

Prompt from Day 20 at NaPoWriMo/GloPoWriMo:

“Last but not least, here is our (optional) prompt for the day. Today, I challenge you to write a poem that incorporates the vocabulary and imagery of a specific sport or game. Your poem could invoke chess or baseball, hopscotch or canasta, Monopoly or jai alai. The choice is yours!”

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