The word: Fidelity
While waiting for the light to change on First Thursday, I stood next to a man who was squinting into the sun after a flash rainstorm. We both commented on the sun and the rain. While we crossed the street I learned that he had moved here to do some campaigning. He collected my name for a clean water campaign. I thought I might as well collect his name for a poem.
The Stranger: Tom
His word: Fidelity
The poem I wrote:
What are we faithful to
day in and day out? It might be
as big as a god or as small as
feels like starting over – to live
in the desert after so much wet
is a strange calling. I remember
when nothing could catch
sky and mud.
The Challenge: Do you have a poem in you on this word? Write one here.