This is a writing prompt exercise where the writer takes one word and it becomes the theme of their poem or flash fiction. The word I chose was, North.
If I were a boat, and my sails shifted south, I would hire men to make them sail straight. Straight towards a harbor. North, even if it meant choppy waters, If it meant seasickness, or if it meant mutiny. In the darkest night, north. In cloudless, Cuban sky that smelled like liquor and salt, still north. North no matter the navigation, despite the directions. North, even if I had to carry my ship in a weatherless, glass dome.
North, because it always points home.
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