NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry
Comments 6

NaPoWriMo Day Eleven

In The Kitchen

The window steams,

until droplets

run fat and thick

in wandering lines

to the peeling paint

on the windowsill.

Their slow bodies slurping

into one another’s paths,

growing, conjoining,

until the puddle is there.


The tulips now old,

have lost their colour

and hang limply,

heads bowed

and wilting,

in the vase tainted green

by the water inside,

and slimed over with something

I don’t care to name.


Sunlight fragments

through the glass.

I’m still waiting for dawn.

Make sure you check out the first of our poetic guest posts for the month by Muthri Raja! 

Until the 30th April, Writing and Works is playing host to poets from across WordPress, all here to explain why they think poetry is amazing and important. Want to join in? Email me at

This entry was posted in: NaPoWriMo 2016, Poetry


Carol J Forrester is a writer and a history geek. Her debut collection 'It's All In The Blood' came out November 2019. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon.Her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works.


  1. Is the ending meant to hang like that? “until droplets…” seems incomplete. I’m all about closure. I’m mentally filling in the supposed gap:
    …until droplets fall
    …until droplets form
    …until droplets spontaneously explode leading to a tsunami in the wash basin.

    Maybe I am not meant to read poetry?

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