Day 2 – 2nd April

Such A Quaint Hotel


The large horse chestnut tree is in bloom, its pink flowers

showing off to the windows of every room facing East

and held in every ring around its core

a merry-go-round of stories dance, imprisoned

in its sap. The stones and branches have shared

this space – and whispered its local stories while the wind

joins in and swishes the leaves to loosen the gossip


From the highway, turn down towards the lake

follow the route de Divonne for about two kilometres


they all discuss, that the main road outgrew

its villages – pinching in between the buildings

loosening its buckles once outside

in the northern windows of the hotel you can watch

the cars pause, taking turns to step around its walls


when you reach the village, the speed limit changes to fifty

and there they have a speed control device, so slow down


the ironsmith opposite has a yard littered

with metal scrolling or embossed – his works,

lamps, gates and posts in progress.


even pedestrians pause around the hotel’s corner stone

as cars drive too close, often dipping their tyres

in the yellow line slash pavement


the road dips and curves right, be careful

the parking is immediately on your left


These villages are pearls strung on the main

and their other roads are named for their neighbours

the hotel is where the necklace dips and nests

on the collarbone, the fingerprint spot

where one dabs perfume




Saffron – April 2020



Write a poem about a specific place —  a particular house or store or school or office. Try to incorporate concrete details, like street names, distances (“three and a half blocks from the post office”), the types of trees or flowers, the color of the shirts on the people you remember there. Little details like this can really help the reader imagine not only the place, but its mood – and can take your poem to weird and wild places.


4 thoughts on “Day 2 – 2nd April

  1. Interesting: the surprising structure with italicized instructions on how to get there. Love “merry-go-round of stories..imprisoned in its sap” and “the hotel is where the necklace dips” … *the collarbone”. Lovely, unusual metaphors.


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