In honor of August’s Writing Challenge month over at Women’s Creative Collective for Change, I tried a counting technique to generate words for this poem:

Today’s wind

scrubbed clean of dirt like

bleached napkins on the brushed tablecloth

of the sky, it rushes up the land


Away south

dominoes fall, giants play

among towers that look warm

in their cloudy blanket

towers blinking at the sun

like tall electric eyes,

waking today.