Noon

This is a poem I created from a flash poetry exercise. We were given a line from "The Post Man Always Rings Twice," and had to build from there.

Noon

By: Chelsea Dameron

 

 

They threw me off the hay truck about noon.

Here it goes my journey into the unknown.

North, South, East, or West?

I have to choose, I have nothing left.

Where will I lay my head?

Will I ever find a bed?

I’m starting over it feels too soon,

But they threw me off the hay truck about noon.

 

My feet are glued to this dusty ground.

How long can I stand here and frown?

I’m mourning what I left behind,

I have sure gotten myself into a bind.

I’m starting over with a whole new life.

Hopefully it will be one with less strife.

Where should I go? What should I do?

Damn that hay truck that threw me off about noon.

 

There is nothing around me but fields of corn.

I am so tired my body feels worn.

I need to force my feet to move,

To start walking and come unglued.

I have to suck it up and carry on,

Pick up my bags and move along.

I’m starting over it feels too soon,

But they threw me off that hay truck about noon.

 

 

 

Author's Note

My biggest problem with this poem is it very much lacks the imagery I feel is necessary in Poetry!