We plan. Birthday parties, picnics, pet adoptions. Our plans stuff calendar squares, burst wild exuberance. We plan. Weddings, pregnancies, career paths. We shape plans that shape us. We plan. Vacations, outfits, shopping trips. Plans are blueprints for our lives. When it's time to plan mishap, we're quietly agitated. We don't want to think about ruin, disaster. Imagine interruptions, detail disruptions. We plan demise in silence, let us shout survival shamelessly. Plow breaks up mice's nest on the precipice of winter. Plans are leaf-shaped swords in battle against behemoths, wildfire's unhinged rage, earthquakes' hysterics, wind's howl, floods drown fields never our mammoth will to live, make a plan. Form protective elephant circle around weak and vulnerable. arrange evacuation routes, harness power, glowing will perseveres still stumbles in tragedy's pitch-black, make a plan. Pencil in calamity so when it breaks though seal of day or night, you're ready for luck splintering, breaking apart is not an option, make a plan. Plans are bronzed gladiators, giving your people a fighting chance to survive when fierce beast bites down, gory spectacle fills arena, make a plan. We nest on precipice of winter; make a plan.
NCO/EPIC Poetry Contest Week 2 $100 Winning Poem: We Nest on the Precipice of Winter by Hilary Devine
