Blue
We’re all a bit blue in the Interior as fall drags slowly toward winter. The leaves are nearly off the trees now; the sky deepens to a slaty blue and lingers there for hours. Late at night, if there are no clouds, the aurora drifts slowly across the sky, a pale blue green. It’s been chilly at night, though we’re in a bit of a warmer trend now.
So write about something blue–large or small. Leave the word “blue” out of the poem, if possible.
Post the poem as a comment here and I’ll add it to this post.
Mattie's Pillow 