Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #453
Words: virus, stroke, fly, call, left, lock, singe, death, mask, sell, lose, spread
His singed death mask went viral.
Word spread. Calls, messages left.
He was bereft of funds, so began
to sell his invention–hell, a stroke
of good luck after being
on the losing end. Locked
in a patent, and he was fly
once again.
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
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About purplepeninportland
I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York.
My goal is to create and share poetry with others
who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve
in you, and feel your sparks as well.
Whatever misfortune takes place there is is always someone to profit by it!
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So true.
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Very positive twist on this, as now with COVID-19 it is hard to turn stories to the positive.
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Thanks, Christine!
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