DESCRIBE THAT OBJECT
This is a great way to get writing if you haven't an idea in your head.
A while back my brother gave me an old brass coal bin that used to sit in the family home.
It was a prize piece in our living room and far too decorative to use for coal.
So..... my father kept his socks in it.
Here's the poem that grew out of the bin.
The Brass Bin
for my father
The clang
of a brass bin-lid opening
Takes me
back to you
Fishing a
pair of black socks
Out of it
A
cylindrical brass coal bin
Sporting
sailing ships
Three of
them heading for the Spanish Maine
Its ringed
handles looped through the mouths of lions
Too good
for coal, it bore your socks
I always
borrowed them
And never
gave them back
I think you
minded-but never said
The clang
of a brass bin- lid closing
Mouths
shutting
And
silence
And words
never spoken
Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2016
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