In early Spring, outside husbands and the city
7 women, freely breathe- leaves, trees and each other
pussy willows have small sweet pussies
vodka, grapes and laughter gyrate by the fire
This was a poem that I tried to write about a recent women’s weekend, using the prompt the pantun. I decided that I had failed but today I decided writing a poem a day is not about perfection but is about daily playing. I think I may have spelled pantun wrong, will rectify it next break.