Oh, bother, I was convinced that this prompt had been written and scheduled to appear at 7am this morning. But I can’t find any sign of it, so here it is again:
Here’s a short poem by Paul Farley from his collection ‘Tramp in Flames’:
As the crow flies
Became an idea, a pure abstraction,
all black vector, a distance in air miles;
Watling Street on the wing, a one-track mind
hell bent against a white, wintering sky.
And here’s another poem with a road in it – this one by Vona Groarke:
And here’s one by Sylvia Plath with a lane in it:
You get the drift. Write a poem with a street, a road, a lane in it. It can be a specific street like Paul Farley’s… or an unnamed road like Vona Groarke’s. Or a highly individual lane as in Sylvia Plath’s poem. Or… well, it’s up to you.
With very best wishes for a happy and productive New Year!