Here are the words from Wordle 61 at The Sunday Whirl: blend, latch, chest, current, draft, string, crack, spare, temper, refrain, racket, trace, strike.

These words seemed to want to be a poem. Here’s a draft:

Muddle

Outside, the air’s a rare blend of jasmine

and wood smoke from the grill. My chest hurts

from hunching over the computer too long,

this draft a muddle of temper, a racket of voices.

 

I need something spare: a bare room, silence,

a crack in the face of time. There’s too much noise

in here; it drags me down its racing current.

I wait for the clock to strike the ending.

 

Where’s the latch and string when I need it,

a simple exit where not a trace of sense

remains: not jasmine, not smoke, not even this

refrain of words, scrabbling to be heard.

cane chair in sunlight