Spaced – out – NaPoWriMO, 2017 – day 25 – prompt: write about a small space, a box

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SPACED-OUT

 .

It becomes an escape

to a wilderness of wildflowers.

Though small, it has all

the space I could want.

When we bought the house

we freshened all the rooms

but this one. Why it waited

such a long time? I have no

excuse.

.

In the end, I tackled this room,

our bathroom.

.

(Excuse me, I’m multi-tasking

as I write this poem, watching

the mid-day news; retired but

still busy every hour of the day.)

.

Back to poetry and a small room.

.

When I tackled this room

I had such a short time frame

to get it completely freshened

while the family on holiday.

.

Plenty of sanding and preparing;

Painting. Exacting wallpaper,

fitting leaf to leaf, flower to flower.

.

The only tradesman required I called

in for the tiling. I stood back

and admired my handiwork,

smiles all over my dusty sweaty

face, Knowing that at the end

of my seventh decade, I’d done it,

Yeah, yeah, yeah. And wow, what

a struggle, climbing a ladder perched

in the bath, to get these two corners

completed. Yeah, but I did it.

.

And now, when I take a long lingering

soak in the bath, entertain my muse,

wander in a garden of wildflowers:

I’m spaced-out. No one mentions

the long time it took me to do this,

but hey I don’t care. I’m spaced-out.

Benita H. Kape © 25.4.2017

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And now for our daily prompt (optional, as always). In 1958, the philosopher/critic Gaston Bachelard wrote a book called The Poetics of Space, about the emotional relationship that people have with particular kinds of spaces – the insides of sea shells, drawers, nooks, and all the various parts of houses. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that explores a small, defined space – it could be your childhood bedroom, or the box where you keep old photos. It could be the inside of a coin purse or the recesses of an umbrella stand. Any space will do – so long as it is small, definite, and meaningful to you

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