NaPoWriMo Poem #9
Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt for the day asks to write a “concrete” poem – a poem in which the lines and words are organized to take a shape that reflects in some way the theme of the poem.
I chose to write a concrete poem about the life of a cannonball during the American Civil War and then shape that poem into the image of a cannonball itself.
Yanked from a pile of my brothers I’m shown the dark hole.
Jammed down a charred hallway to the sound of drumfire.
Settled upon pillows of stinking charcoal soot and burnt wood.
Surprised when the crackling hiss of sparks flashes overhead.
Clocked with a haymaker punch to the back of my brain.
Deafened by the thrill of speed and release.
Ecstatic to hurl over the hills and trees on my iron belly.
Pleased by the shape of my arc as I descend with purpose.
Satisfied when I announce my arrival with triumphant fanfare.