Day 3 of #NaPoWriMo.

I am writing a poem for each letter of the alphabet. They are a sequence. You can read the first two here - A and B

The letter 'C' is thought to have possibly been derived from an ancient symbol for a throwing stick.



Of course, the clock and our conscience will not allow us simply to ‘be’, eternally.
Crickets chirp. Crows caw. The celestial ceiling clouds over,
then clears again, to uncover a crescent moon
so crisp you can see the curves of the craters.
The carbonated soil is changed twice over by the light it casts.

What can you make out, down there?
Everywhere in the black ground, certain things, once concealed,
catch the beams.
Collapsing to your hands and knees to dig, you can feel them –
crab's claws. Continue.
Champagne corks. Carry on.
Copper coins…

Curling into your fingers as if it was conceived and crafted for no other purpose,
is a… a… what is it?
A cane? A cudgel? A club?

You come to your feet again. Savour the weight of it in your hand,
then chuck it like a champion
all the way over the house.


Popular posts from this blog