NaPoWriMo #17 – Granny Smith

Curdled and tempestuous the empty bowl sits –
a convex balance of laughing air
and impermeable wood chips

Getting up from your table
and picking out a Granny Smith
is surely the easiest to do
of all mundane things – !

But somehow she decided there and then
that the trailblazer’s trajectory was her best friend;
so she hatched her own elliptic path
by first bouncing off the greasy floor –
(and,’s where you do the math)

Rolling to a chipped table leg,
it now stops a’ wobbled on its side,
trying to nurse its wounded pride

and I am thoroughly disturbed by the sight
of how Granny Smith’s green visage
has now turned into Granny Meg’s seasicked face,

with an imperceptibly light nudge
that seems to wink and giggle –
an illusory gift that never stops the fickleness
as much as the fading bright is wont to give –

© Zelda Reville

Day 17 – no prompt for today again, but I’m trying my hand at a sonnet that’s turned out rather strangely…


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