Postcard Poems

“The Violinist”

Delicate and slender, worn

Caressing the old instrument

Smooth wood, warm to the touch

How long have you played?

I’ve lived long enough.

__

 ”Bedtime Stories”

Heavy and rough, splayed

Engulfing the small book

Voice broken and rough, but steady

Daddy, how does it end?

I checked, no monsters under the bed.

__

“Her Secret”

Scarred and battered

Skimming over her skin

Afraid of her own flesh

Are you trapped in your own mind?

No, to myself I’m not kind.

Author's Note

I was at a Paul Perry workshop, and he challenged us to write a five line poem. These were the guidelines:

1. Description of a pair of hands

2. Action the hands are doing

3. Description (more on what hands are doing, or just additional random description)

4. A question asked to the owner of the hands

5. The answer, but the owner has misheard the question