"Last Anniversary" by A. Craig Newman
Writer's Notes:
This one is a bit strange. The prompt here was to write an "extended simile". To this day, I'm not certain what that phrase means. So, you'll see an abundance of "like" and "as" in this piece as I try to fit that bill. What I like about this piece is the story that it tells. In the years since I've wrote this, no one has been able to decipher what I'm describing without help. On the other hand, I've gotten dozens of translations different from my original intentions, but not exactly wrong. That is to say, I can see how they came to their conclusions. Because of that, this piece is probably one of my more "artistic" accomplishments. -ACN
This one is a bit strange. The prompt here was to write an "extended simile". To this day, I'm not certain what that phrase means. So, you'll see an abundance of "like" and "as" in this piece as I try to fit that bill. What I like about this piece is the story that it tells. In the years since I've wrote this, no one has been able to decipher what I'm describing without help. On the other hand, I've gotten dozens of translations different from my original intentions, but not exactly wrong. That is to say, I can see how they came to their conclusions. Because of that, this piece is probably one of my more "artistic" accomplishments. -ACN
As I did on this day years ago, I drink from the full flute.
I drink the memory of our Union Day when this glass held wine like hope and cheer.
I drink the union as your Gertrude, my Claudius, and swallow deadly truth.
I drink death like love, swimming my head until down is up.
The flute crashes to the ground like the dream it once held.
I follow as the truth finds my heart and I know why you smile this day.
You stand over me, your heart like your hand, closed and still.
I lie before you, my hand like my heart, open and stretched to you.
“Happy Anniversary!” I hear you say.
You drink your wine; I fade away.
I drink the memory of our Union Day when this glass held wine like hope and cheer.
I drink the union as your Gertrude, my Claudius, and swallow deadly truth.
I drink death like love, swimming my head until down is up.
The flute crashes to the ground like the dream it once held.
I follow as the truth finds my heart and I know why you smile this day.
You stand over me, your heart like your hand, closed and still.
I lie before you, my hand like my heart, open and stretched to you.
“Happy Anniversary!” I hear you say.
You drink your wine; I fade away.
