I already wrote a moon poem earlier this month, but to hold true to the poetic stereotype, I have more to say about it. Today I used the 30/30 prompt “concentration moon” to come up with a few quick micros.
on the full face
of a super moon
but still come up
like phases of the moon
wax wan new repeat
when I lose
the day’s light
I try to remember
that it’s yet held
by the moon
Mixing two prompts today: the first being “ambient light” and the second being a challenge to write a Robert Frost-inspired poem about a road not taken.
You Are Probably Telling This With a Sigh
Imagine, if you can, a man with the deepest voice you’ve ever heard
sitting at a strangely firelit table, intimate in an otherwise teeming bar,
looking at you in way you will remember 23 years later, on a random Wednesday,
while you’re folding a pair of your daughter’s leggings and waiting
for a second pot of coffee to finish brewing.
Imagine, if you had left that night, away from the strangely firelit table,
and ventured into something less sure. Perhaps deeply contenting.
Perhaps disastrous. Where you might sit again, 23 years later, across from a man,
running your finger around the rim of a coffee cup, counter-clockwise, in some
subconscious spell of time reversal.
Imagine, if there were only two roads, in a calm yellow wood,
and not the tangled many-paths of options, like an intricate burst of blood-vessels
pulsing life to places you can’t control, but might try to, or at least hope
to look all the way to the end of a shady track, beyond the protective undergrowth
to see not what but who is waiting.
Melding prompts again today with Poetic Asides suggestion to take the name of a plant, flower or tree and make it the title of your poem, and the NaPoWriMo.net prompt to pick something impossible from a list of statements, and then write a poem in which the impossible thing happens. The statement I picked was The stars cannot rearrange themselves in the sky. Because it’s Earth Day, I was also thinking about humanity’s propensity to shoot ourselves in our own earthbound feet.
Some things aren’t supposed to happen.
Stars aren’t supposed to rearrange themselves in the sky.
Today’s prompt asked for a “shine” poem. Took snips of inspiration from seasonal lights and Pink Floyd.
We put up Christmas lights yesterday. A first for us. Another change made for our girls. A way to make their faces glow like they do when we’re out driving after dark, and they compete to see who can shout it first, ‘Look at that one!’ pointing to every glittering tree. Every light-trimmed gable. I smile, even though I don’t feel it the same way they do. Think of that Pink Floyd song and wonder, do I actually remember being young? Shining like the sun. Maybe a diamond, until I reached for the secret too soon. Innocence, yes it glows. We all need a reminder sometimes. A shimmer in the cold night.