Day 73 - Write an Acrostic Poem - The Daily Aftershock

Today I want you to write an acrostic poem. This is a poem where the first letters of every line spell out a word.

Choose a word or phrase that holds power for you—grief, survival, home, protest, tenderness, Aftershock itself.

Perhaps lean into unconventional words: WHAT THEN? for example could be more interesting from an editor’s point of view than reading the word LOVE spelled vertically.

Write a poem where each line begins with a letter from your chosen word, in order.

Keep it raw. Let the shape help you focus. Let the constraint unlock surprise.

Here’s an example using the word “AFTERSHOCK”

AFTERSHOCK by Max Wallis

Another tremor splits open the static sky
Fingers twitch, then curl, then close.
This is not the first morning I forget who I am.
Even the cat flinches at some things.
Remembering isn't so much a choice but happenstance.
Somewhere, the ground still moves, and that's okay.
Home is the bullseye I am aiming for.
Openness and truth both help.
Certain that something will strike it if I keep aiming.
Keep going, says the voice I almost buried last spring.