One-eyed owls
perched on a branch,
all with turquoise faces,
sisters singing a cappella,
a band of brothers, pacing.
Dancing partners,
long-time companions,
known since I was born,
smooth keys of a piano
on which I play my favourite song.
The end of the old road,
beginning of the new,
a landscape of mountains and valleys,
arrows pointing to the future,
I will travel with you always.
Secret agents
tracking every move,
in love with your disguises,
but when I find you naked,
you are full of strange surprises.
An illegal box
of Cuban cigars,
saved for a special occasion,
for that crazy party on the roof,
I won't need much persuasion.
Today's NaPoWriMo prompt: In keeping with the mysterious quality of the number 13, today I challenge you to write a riddle poem. This poem should describe something without ever naming it. Perhaps each line could be a different metaphor for the same object? Maybe the title of the poem can be the “answer” to the riddle.
My feet seem to be the inspiration for today!
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