Prompt: Make a “Personal Universal Deck,” and then write a poem using it.
[a little darker/sadder than I expected? sometimes you just let the words drive]
there is a rhythm to the breath
that escapes the weary soul
under a blanket of cosmos
nestled in the overgrown grass
there is a shiver that descends
like a cold evening dew
delivering the kiss of darkness
wet, not unwelcome
there is a taste of cider
in the dreams that emerge
fresh and warm and sweet
clouded memories growing clear
there is a question that haunts
in the faded photograph
a mirror of days too long gone
is there hope?