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Today's Inspiration & Writing Prompt


THE WILD IRIS

Hear me out: that which you call death

I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of pine shifting.

Then nothing. The weak sun

flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive

as consciousness

buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being

a soul and unable

to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth

bending a little. And what I took to be

birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember

passage from the other world

I tell you I could speak again: whatever

returns from oblivion returns

to find a voice:

from the center of my life came

a great fountain, deep blue

shadows on azure seawater.

Louise Gluck

WRITING PROMPT:

That was the night I/she/he saw how the trick was done..........


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2016 by Julie Mariouw