The other week, I attended a free verse workshop via Zoom led by my librarian friend Victoria. For the penultimate exercise, Victoria showed us a picture of a bicycle standing before a sunlit field, shadows spilling into the foreground. We were supposed to write ten lines about it. Here’s what I came up with:
She stands alone, fielding sunlight
Like she was born of shadow and dew
Light touches, light ebbs, births and kills
The radiance of tomorrow’s yester-eve
Hungry eyes peep, open ears gape
And her ever-bearing frame, boneshaker
And knee-scraper, at last loses its balance
Buckles, tumbles with the the light
And spills its burden onto the pavement
Only blood-drawn shadows remain
Beth Overmyer 