PAD 2022 – Day 10

Today’s prompt called for a “love poem.” I have never been very good at writing those, and I think today’s micro-poem proves that again. 🙂

Love Affairs

The important ones leave you marked –

a soft scar

you can trace

any time you feel yourself slipping.

Photo by Tatiana on


PAD 2022 – Day 9

Day nine, and going with a prompt that keeps me in line. suggests trying the nonet! A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second has eight, and so on until you get to the last line, which has just one syllable. I had a hard time finding a subject, so went with the action I always seem to take whenever there’s a form that calls for counting.


At least once in the month of April

you will catch a poet’s fingers

tapping rhythm and meter

as though they were Ringo

magic-ing their way

to the perfect,




Photo by Hernu00e1n Santarelli on

PAD 2022 – Day 8

I have been a day ahead all week, not on my poems, but in my mind. But today actually is Friday.

Had to get the poem done early, because of other things that have to be done, so it’s short again. If I had more time (or when I do!) I would try the NaPoWriMo prompt calling for poets to name your alter-ego, and then describe him/her in detail. Then write in your alter-ego’s voice. Maybe your alter-ego is a streetwise detective, or a superhero, or a very small goldfinch. It sounds fun and creative.

Instead I’ve gone with the 30/30 prompt “roadside distraction,” which is also the title of the poem.

Roadside Distraction

The way a mother moose,

bold against a frozen

ditch pond, a snowy field, a colourless sky,

stands with head tilted back,

waiting for her awkward calf

to stagger its new legs across the ice.

If I could stop to take their photo,

I would — tourist imposing on quiet nature —

but in the backseat, you sleep fever restless,

hair stuck to sweaty forehead,

red cheek pressed against the window,

trusting me — for a long time yet —

to get you somewhere comfortable

and safe.

Photo by KoolShooters on

PAD 2022 – Day 7

One week in! Hooray!

I am a bit pressed for time today, and didn’t have a chance to think as deeply about the prompt “landscape” as I would have liked, so out came this micro instead.

Landscape Mode

Oh, how much

of the precious world


with just a shift

in perspective

Photo by David Jakab on

PAD 2022 – Day 6

Today there were two prompts to choose from: “message in a bottle” or write an acrostic poem where each line starts with a word that, when read down, reads as its own line of original or classic poetry, or a headline, etc.

I had energy to do short poems for both (or maybe I was just procrastinating…).

The first, a “message in a bottle” micro:


message in a bottle

sent blank


is an easier word

to say than accept

And the second, with war and atrocity so heavy on my mind, I wrote an acrostic (below) that takes title and line inspiration from “The Soldier” by Rupert Brooke, which you can read here.

In Some Corner of a Foreign Field

If there is one benefit of war, to the snarling wounds of those who are caught,

I can’t see it. I will never forget her hand, edge of the photograph cutting off what

should be grasping a hot latte, or brushing her son’s hair before school. Thriving. To

die is always our fate, but not like this. No one should. When I can’t

think about it anymore — (she was wearing a watch, a wedding band) — can’t have

only these images of life stilled, stopped, in

this most horrifying way, I turn up my music, sweep the floor, make a list

of everything I need on my weekly grocery run, wallow in some life of

me that seems, now, utterly selfish and necessary.

Photo by Joshua Woroniecki on

PAD 2022 – Day 5

Today I chose to go with the 30/30 prompt “borderline.” I tried my hand at a short acrostic, both because I am a bit busy today, and because I was a little stuck. Sometimes working with the constraints of a form is exactly what I need to get something written.


Beyond any reason, we’re

ordered into thinking the

right way to shape humanity is

demarcation. Classification. Our stake

ends here, yours there. Do not cross.

Remember your place.

Learn tribalism. Othering.

In here we are one

nation, do not divide us,

except from them.

Photo by NEOSiAM 2021 on

PAD 2022 – Day 4

Today I tried to blend two prompts, the first being “another word for salvation” and the second being to write a poem in the form of a prompt. Intriguing, right? The example given was by Mathias Svalina, who posts his surrealist prompt poems on Instagram. You can find examples here, and here, and here.

I am absolutely wild about this style of poem, and wish mine had turned out half as cool as his are, but I will share it anyway:

Writing Prompt

  1. In your notebook, with a black pen, write three words that remind you of salvation.
  2. Say them out loud.
  3. Tear them from the book, crumple or fold the paper, and offer it to the wind.
  4. Place your hand on your chest and feel
  5. it rise, as you suck a portion of that wind deep into your lungs.
  6. Hold.
  7. Think of the taste of an orange.
  8. Your eyes are shut, but you know there is sunlight because it is not completely dark.
  9. Not even in here.
  10. Think of the first time you made someone’s face blush with playful embarrassment or
  11. lust. Remember the first time it happened to you. If the memories match, you can hold
  12. on longer to that breath. If they don’t, you can too.
  13. Think of the sound of a closing door.
  14. Count backward from four as you release what you’re holding.
  15. The whisper over your lips is the poem.

Photo by Pixabay on

PAD 2022 – Day 3

Today’s poem-a-day prompt is the strangely phrased, but somehow pleasing, “morning rain forgiven.”

I’m both a bit short on inspiration, and a little pressed for time, so only eked out a tanka:

hope is to believe

there’s something every day

that’s worth the marvel

that morning rain on the face

opens you to forgiveness

Photo by Vlad Kovriga on

PAD 2022 – Day 2

For today’s PAD challenge, I went with the 30/30 prompt “corresponding with ghosts.” Fitting, because today would have been my Mom’s 79th birthday, so ghosts of a sort are on my mind.

I came up with a short poem, inspired by a ouija board, that I might expand on at some point. My one line to share is:

I don’t need a planchette to lead me to you. There are always dreams,

strange and funny. Absurdity is a good balm.

Photo by cottonbro on

PAD 2022 – Day 1

For this year’s poem-a-day challenge, I’m following the 30/30 prompts and writing with my local poetry group, Stroll of Poets.

Today’s prompt comes from Robert Hass’s prose poem, “A Story About the Body.” The idea is to write your own prose poem that, whatever title you choose to give it, is a story about the body. The poem should contain an encounter between two people, some spoken language, and at least one crisp visual image.

I write a lot of prose poetry, so I was excited about this prompt, and it came out rather quickly compared to some poems. I’ve tentatively titled it “It Doesn’t Even Sting” and my one line to share is:

Later, at home, when you’re peeling potatoes for supper, their skins sliding off in elegant curls, falling on your cutting board, you’ll think of the spot again.