(Prompt: Describe something ordinary, making it seem extraordinary)
I play blindman’s bluff and pin-the-tail.
Unseeing eyes using other metrics
to measure on a more subjective scale
Has this been done? Has this gone stale?
I poke and prod with heavy metal sticks
That roll and disappear between my fingertips.
I duck to the floor, on hands and praying knees
begging an unknown deity
I regain my grip.
I find a grasp.
And the stick is safe within sticky fingers secure.
I point. I jab. I jab. I jab. I jab.
My stick is a painstick.
And in my hands, it causes havoc.
It dodges. It weaves. It tries using locks.
Ultimately I find my target.
It sinks in.
Bulls eye. Needle eye. I spy.
With my little eye.
A javelin that pierced a hole,
A spear that found it’s target.
A sword that stabbed it’s mark.
I spin in a little victory dance.
Metal rivets whirling in tiny circles.
I turn. I turn. I turn.
Finally I give up and I push.
My target cries a meek little cry.
I admire my work
And then I bend
To pick up
the matching earring.
I need a title for this because earring would have given it away immediately.
It’s supposed to be spoken word.
On an unrelated note, I am back from my 50,000 word in a month marathon. Hint: I did not give up.