Challenge Poem Verbless winter: Brute

The empty field,

a yellow stain,

a sharp-edged stone

in the corpse of moon.

A knife of snarl,

a gasp: a yield,

the blue of bruise

from a winter brute.

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No doubt in my mind that you meet IYP’s challenge, RLW. With that belcanto judgement out of he way 🙂 let me say I’m awed by this series of images. and the poetic tools you bring to bear on the effectiveness of the whole. Whatever you do, Rachel, do not ever bin this simply because it’s just a writing exercise to get your creative impulses up and running again. IMO you have the nucleus for extending (or lifting/transferring) this into a much more meaningful and powerful write. a sharp-edged stone in the corpse of moon. I’ve never heard the moon… Read more »