10:15 a.m. — San Antonio
listening to the music from Swan Lake
Hi all. I hope things are going well and that you are not in one of the two dark red spots on the weather map that indicate incredibly hot. It occurred to me a few days ago, while moving mom and unpacking us, that I had a natural topic for writing on. Let’s pack and unpack, people.
I am going to make a generalisation, often a dangerous thing to do. I am going to venture that there isn’t a person on this earth who has not packed and unpacked sometime in their lives (alright, maybe not babies — although my husband used to pack baby food in his cheeks [apparently everyone thought he had chubby cheeks] and then unpack it when left in his crib.).
Packing. Unpacking. Packing for a trip. Packing to leave a place. Packing to run away. Metaphorical packings. Unpacking. Packaging. Big gift, intimate gift. unusual packaging. Given or received. There are so many possibilities for a poem. Go nuts. If you feel like stretching, choose a form that unpacks, or packs, such as an etheree.
I hope to be here Thursday. If not, I’ll see you next Tuesday for another prompt.
Happy writing, everyone.