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Day 11 | April Poetry Month Challenge | Washed Out

WFSC Creative Writing Facilitators, Mike Deregowski and Kelsey Hoople, challenge you to participate in national poetry month. 1 poem per day for 30 days with no working ahead. 😉

Overall theme 'When Life Changes'.

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Day 11 | April 11th | Washed Out

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5 Comments


Lana O'Neill
Lana O'Neill
Apr 12, 2021

DAY 11- WASHED OUT

While travelling one day

To meet her gals at the lake,

a cloud opened up.

Fast wipers worked hard,

Black road became blurred,

No shoulder to stop.


She slowed to a crawl,

Heart thumped with the hail,

Minutes seemed more.

Then the sun hit the sky,

She exhaled and drove on

Harry Connick on play.


The wet road curved south

When the wheels hydroplaned

To a washed-out low bridge.

Time slowed. She resigned.

The car slid. To a ditch.

Double deep in long grass.


Unhurt but alone

Despair followed her step out

To an echo forlorn.


Did you know… Guardian Angels

Drive old Lincoln Continentals

Packing ropes and sure smiles?


WRITTEN BY LANA O’NEILL APRIL, 2021

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Kelsey Hoople
Kelsey Hoople
Apr 12, 2021


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Linda Pedley
Linda Pedley
Apr 12, 2021

April 11th – Washed Out


Intent on completion, my focus ahead

Nothing can stop me from making my way

No plans for diversions or detour instead

Perceiving no road blocks, naught to delay.


Tunnel vision, one purpose, success lies ahead

Obstacles rising unexpected that day

No means for alternate ways to progress

Left with the fallout when not gone my way.


Had I just planned a bit more open-eyed

So drastic an outcome there would never be

Knowing that destiny is more than the ride

Significant changes would not hamper me.


Despite the route you might want to go

Rest assured there is much more, no doubt

For having a back-up to your original plan

Gives peace of mind should…


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J.E. McKnight
Apr 12, 2021

Washed Out

April 11, 2021


A trunk found,

Long ago misplaced.

Building collapsed to the ground,

Filling the empty space.

Washed out by flood.


For decades it remained,

Undisturbed.

until one day, it’s saved

pulled from the wreck; unearthed.

Washed out by weather.


The trunk is opened;

And the past revealed.

Photos, faded but not broken

Fifty years sealed.

Washed out by time.


In the pictures, who were they?

Someone knows, of course.

One of these years; one of these days,

A life will change; memories restored.

A past no longer washed out.


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Linda Pedley
Linda Pedley
Apr 21, 2021
Replying to

...if only we could prevent our memories from becoming washed out...

Good job, Joe - I like the progression in the poem from lost to found, past to present.

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