And the final #NaPoWriMo poem from me as I turn back into a poet hiding in the wings. Thanks for reading these over the last month. It's been fun to write through the puzzle words and come up with these varied and odd little poems.
LARVA
The boy clung to an overhanging rock
like a synod holds on to tradition.
Below, a melee of local musicians,
bashed cymbals with a provocative clang.
The boy, surprised at this overt display,
touched his glands in case he had a fever.
Between him and them, an invisible axial
road fluttered as would a shirt in the breeze.
A rotten stench filled his nose, the smell of offal
mixed with the waxing of an early morning skier.
Then he woke, no longer boy, in a luxury suite;
a note said: One mixed grill. Eat before you leave.
Robert Harper
Poem 30: #NaPoWriMo 2022
(Wordle, Quordle & Octordle results from 30th April)