Free Verse, Poetry, Theme Prompt, Writing Challenge, Writing Prompts

Honesty – or – That Unexpected Bite

Nancy's Notes 🖊️♬

Written for Wea’ve Written Weekly. Our PoW
this week, Deanna, asks us to write a poem in
24 lines or less in any form by choosing an
abstract noun, making it concrete, and
answering the question ‘what does it
feel, sound, look, smell or taste like?’.

Image by Me & Nano Banana

It comes in from the cold without knocking,
a farm dog with burrs in its coat and a torn ear,
and drops at your feet what you threw away:
wet, a little chewed, and still yours.

It smells of split wood and first snow,
of the kitchen at five, before the coffee,
before anyone has put on a face.

It tastes like a raw radish. Clean at first,
then a bite you didn’t bargain for,
then clean again.

Its voice is the floorboard on the third stair.
You can’t sneak past it to the room you want
without the whole house hearing.

It doesn’t dress up for dinner.
It wears yesterday’s flannel,
worn so thin at the elbows the light shows through.

Some nights it sits across the table,
says nothing, and holds your gaze
until the lie in your mouth goes stale
and you put it down like a fork.

It won’t flatter the overdone roast.
But when the power’s out and the road ices over,
it’s the one already outside with the shovel,
breathing white, waiting for you.

NAR©2026
#W3

This is “Honesty” by Billy Joel

W3 Prompt #237: Wea’ve Written Weekly

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.

13 thoughts on “Honesty – or – That Unexpected Bite”

  4. Fabulous Nance I love how honestly is given the texture of a battered, stubborn old farm dog your poem reminds us that the things in life that refuse to stroke our ego are often the exact things that show up when crisis hits 🙌

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  5. I love how honesty arrives like that scruffy farm dog, unwelcome at first and then exactly what you need when the power goes out. The radish that stings before it turns clean is such a vivid touch. Your poem made me see the uncomfortable truths in a kinder light.

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    1. It may seem odd, Khadija, but, being a radish lover, that was the first thought that popped into my head, how the radish doesn’t try to be something it isn’t and its tangy bite will often take us by surprise. Thanks for showing your appreciation for my poem in your gracious comments. I’m delighted to know you enjoyed it. ☺️

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