The prompt for today's poetry was to write in a distinctive voice, like the voice of a well-known character. Instead I thought about voice and wrote about voices...
Voices
If I had a choice
I would raise my
voice above
the babble of
everyday
where children play in the rubble.
There is a whisper
inside
my head; it denies
all that others
have said and the
chant
echoes in the dank
cavern of my mind.
I thought I heard
a voice; loud but
sweet
singing in the
street below
the window I had
opened
for the warm wind
blowing from
the northern
desert plains
to clear the room
of memories
of you, our love,
my aching womb.
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