At More Ink, we did two exercises of similar caliber. The outcome of the first was in an earlier post. The latter is below.

To my More Ink brethren, the words have been edited, but only mildly, yet still contain all the words I had to use in the exercise. To everyone else, below is simply another reason to love, or hate, poetry.

Yesterday I was a black box.
–orange and bland
–quiet until asked to speak
–facts only, when spoken

Yesterday I was an origami clock that tocked
every tick of daily life.
Folded but never unfolded,
strategic lines,
ordered numbers,
predetermined hands.

Today that origami clock no longer tocks.
It ticks.
Folds have been unfolded,
Ticks to a softer second,
at a sweeter minute,
on a brighter hour.