Let me not to the marriage of true mindsAnd today, over at Writer's Digest Poem a Day challenge for said month, the prompt is:
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
... write a shelter poem. Shelter might be a structure like a house, apartment, or hotel. Shelter could be a tent or cardboard box. Shelter could be an umbrella, overpass, cave, or car. Shelter could be a state of mind, part of a money laundering scheme, or any number of interpretations.After eight hours of pondering, this is all that happened:
Shelter in place
That last day we walked down Oxford Street
not holding hands, the rain and wind slashing
through us; you shielded your eyes, as if
from a great light; I, half-blinded by water,
tried to hang on, but the effort was feeble –
over us the black umbrella turned inside out,
and proved to be no shelter from the storm.
Oh come on what else srsly,