Seven rivers from here and there and some words as long as they still flow.
Prompt 22: “In honor of today’s being the 22nd day of Na/GloPoWriMo 2022, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that uses repetition. You can repeat a sound, a word, a phrase, or an image, or any combination of things.“
It’s not the water that flows but the river.
It’s not time that passes but us.―Hervé Bazin
Big river Flow flow repeat repeat repeat flow melt accumulate flow flow repeat repeat flow flow repeat. As long as it flows, we don’t run out. And then the Rio Grande stops, and amore says: “Maybe maybe it’s too cold for the ice to melt.”
If I feel a little drained, sorry not sorry. I gifted my night to the Mavs and it was well worth it, even without Luka. This team is different. And tomorrow night he’ll be back.
Here are seven bridges upon seven rivers in seven photos which remained after I selected photos to post for a previous Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge on the theme of Bridges. This week’s theme and her beautiful post call for Water. Let it flow.
The last day in my NaPoWriMo history
2018: When will the pigs fly?
Her mom knows. One time she called Manja and asked her what she was up to and Manja replied “I’m buying a broom.” Obviously it happened then and now it’s happening again. Le porchette volano. The pigs fly.
2019: Rome haibun
Rome is beautiful where it’s ugly and ugly where it’s beautiful. Rome is orange sunsets and green fountains. Rome is blue sky and brown trees. Rome is brown eyes full of blue soul. These lucky walls grew hundreds of new ways to see. Almost my dog’s eyes. (Read all.)
2020: Barely risers
Il mattino ha l’oro in bocca, they say over here. Rana ura, zlata ura, they claim over there. Ko rano rani, čitav dan zijeva, say the ones to the right. Early hour, the grave of Slovenian boys, say I. Sei ore dorme un corpo, otto ore dorme un porco, you would say if you saw us this morning, all three of us, how we woke up at 11. Oink.
Eyebrow-raising. Envy-inducing. Assumption of riches. No wonder that disappointments come easily. “I thought you lived in a villa.” “This doesn’t seem like typical Tuscany! No cypress trees?” Maybe because Tuscany ends 15 minutes away. Imagine living in Lazio. It would have a completely different ring to it. Mistakes: “Ah, Tuscany! I was travelling around Alicante a lot when I lived in France.” Or, the favourite: “Where are now your famous lavender fields?” We have poppies, remember? Alicante is Spain. Lavender is Provence. Provence is France. They plop “Tuscany” on products to raise the price. Priceless poppies laugh.
This day in my blogging history
When we drive past another girl, and she’s black as well, I think that there must be an entire class here. They are young, dressed like teenage girls nowadays everywhere, in shorts and revealing tops. They must be on a school outing. And the bus broke down.
2017: My life is a reading list. ―John Irving (& Piran in pictures)