This week let’s a write neighbor poem. Growing up, I knew my neighbors but, I must admit, I don’t know my neighbors now. Maybe being a neighbor is different these days. Post about your poetic neighbors in the comments below.
This week let’s a write neighbor poem. Growing up, I knew my neighbors but, I must admit, I don’t know my neighbors now. Maybe being a neighbor is different these days. Post about your poetic neighbors in the comments below.
True story:
I had a neighbor who is a poet
But I moved away don’t you know it
We’re still friends
But it all depends
On traffic routes alternate
…..
OK, so they can’t all be great. One of these days I shall master the limerick.
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Practice Practice Practice
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My take with a short story
https://wp.me/sap1rn-tom
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Ha! I think that’s pretty close to being a prose poem.
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I thought about that being a prose, yet I felt it was lack of flowy descriptive words like the usual prose. So I put it in short writing/story.
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I think you could pretty easily punch it up and trim it down into a prose poem.
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Yes I can see that take form.
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Neighbors
Growing up, I knew all neighbors for blocks
I was curious, friendly; rode my bicycle around
when I became a mother, I knew my neighbors
many kids too, who came around
for whatever reason
I became a single person again and I didn’t.
Now as a senior in a multi-generational
neighborhood, I wave when I see a
neighbor outside; a surprised look on
their face, seconds later they return
the wave.
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At least they’re still waving back.
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and it feels so good!
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Beautiful Neighbor
Amy Hadley
She’s tinier
than she ever was,
my neighbor,
and shrinking still.
My greeting is met with
a shy glance, a hesitant grin
and a wave.
I reintroduce myself
like I’ve done every day
for two years now
and we become fast
new friends
for an hour.
Once upon a time
she was a nurse,
in charge of a team
of nurses.
Now a nurse
is in charge of her
as she retreats
inward.
Once upon a time
she was an adopted grandma
to my sons,
attending ball games
and band concerts,
cheering them on,
as proud of them
as if they were her own.
They are strangers
to her now,
scary, menacing men
who mean her harm;
she hides behind her nurse
when they stop to say hi,
and when they leave,
brave-faced
and teary-eyed,
we all weep
for our beautiful neighbor
and for what
once was.
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A nice (but sad) portrait. Good work!
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in my neighborhood
we’re in two-deep rows
stacked by three
lined up by four
In my neighborhood
We know the dog barks times two
and their families by “hello”
since their dogs helped us meet
In my neighborhood
We meet people at the mail station
or a knock on my door
when the neighbor gets my mail
In my neighborhood
We talk to people at the pool
play water catch with a little girl
named Daisy
and help her find her lost toy
In my neighborhood
We share where to find fresh fish
to people from other states
who found this to be home
In my neighborhood
We can count on the sweet lady
who smiles and says it is sweet
to see us holding hands
In my neighborhood
we are known at the office
because we visit
and have coffee
Stacked houses really don’t matter
in my neighborhood
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It’s so good to see there are hoods where people can be that friendly and united~
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Thank you!
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I really like the sense of community you’ve conveyed. Very uplifting!
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Thank you!
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Sounds like a lovely neighborhood.
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It’s not too bad.
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