I’m still experimenting with blackout poetry. Here’s one I made from today’s newsfeed.


In these long, vacant hours,

we will have to learn to sit with 

ourselves and discover glory and meaning

 in stillness. Or, at the very least, accept.

Tomorrow was never promised.

For how long must we do this?

I don’t know.

But let us think how lucky we are.

Let us lie together on a blanket and read.

Let us lie hip to hip and prone.

Let us be like children, which, or course

we still are.

-blackout poem by Anne Ward

created from CNN article by Allison Glock,

Now I finally Understand What My Grandparents Knew

March 28, 2020