Napowrimo 2020 day 7- No Trespassers Allowed

07 April 2020, Category: poetry

As one, blades of grass sharpen,
becoming fields of swaying razors.

Dock leaves turn away in shame,
permitting nettle gangs to rule.

Branches weave themselves together,
contorting the pathway into knots.

Even the stream, usually so gentle,
screams vile curses as it cascades.

What are you doing here, the forest
asks, after everything you’ve done?

Prompt was “Blades of grass” From Lemondaisypoetry on Instagram and I immediately went for a bad pun, then built the rest from there

Recent Posts

Stay up to date

Subscribe below for my latest posts delivered automatically to your inbox

* indicates required