Written for Wea’ve Written Weekly.
Our PoW this week is Josie, and our
challenge is to take the first line from
a favorite poem and write a new poem,
with that line as our first line. My choice is
“The Inexpressible” by Ernest Hemingway.
When the June bugs were a-circlin’
the porch light like a slow-turned wheel,
my grandfather sat with his hat on his knee
and told me nothing of what he could feel.
He’d point his pipe at the dark corn field,
at the cricket-stitched and humming air,
nod and say, “Yep.” That’s all, just “Yep.”
As if everything he knew and felt was there.
I was ten and wanted stories:
war, a girl, some wild mistake.
He gave me the screen door’s long lament,
and the bats above the lake.
Now I’m the one with the hat on my knee,
and the words still won’t come near.
The June bugs knock their heads on the light.
I say, “Yep.” And mean: “I’m here“.
NAR©2026
#W3
This is “My Tennessee Mountain Home” by Dolly Parton
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, except where otherwise indicated, and may not be used without permission. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
