Peace Bridge
Peace
spans across
Niagara river
brings two countries together
Plain
drab green color blends in well
offers no pizazz
to skyline
Bridge
Voice of Niagara Peace Bridge photo
NaPoWriMo Prompt – And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about bridges. A bridge is a powerful metaphor, and when you start looking for bridges in poems, you find them everywhere. Your poem could be about a real bridge or an imaginary or ideal bridge. It could be one you cross every day, or one that simply seems to stand for something larger – for the idea of connection or distance, for the idea of movement and travel and new horizons.
It’s funny how life works at times. I’ve been working on a bridge poem thinking about Big Bridges Motion poems submission call. Deadline is now May 15th so fellow napowrimo poets if you think your bridge poem has what it takes…
Meanwhile we have been bridging some personal family issues. Hopefully making a stronger connection. And of course Rachael bridged into NHS. They lit a candle for each inductee. It really reminded me of how they bridge in girl scouts, but there was no physical bridge and they didn’t say exactly what the candles signified. Yes, Rachael’s girl scout troop actually bridged up to the next level. Gretchen will be “bridging” up to high school. I just got an email about the parent praise letters they want us to write to our children?! My other daughter graduated from this same school three years ago and I didn’t hear about praise letters. On top of this, there was an example letter. I know you’re quiet and don’t talk to me about your day. Umm… whose kid are they raising? We have dinner together almost every night and both my girls fill me in on their day. Then the email said, letter should be one page. Ha! they really don’t know me. When the girls applied for the middle school honors program, Dad went to the parent meeting on what is expected. He came home and told me, parents have to fill out this section. Damn woman you wrote a book. Yes, we already had the paper work and I know how to read. It wasn’t my fault they didn’t give me enough room and I added another page. I’m a writer, after all. I wonder what the school will think when I send in a praise poem over a letter.
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