Learning to Change

Here’s one for autumn with some of my wordplay and construction challenges exposed.  I’ve already trimmed out words such as “the”, “a”, etc. where they proved extraneous.

A nibble of frost <in the air>

reminds me that this is

fine tomato sauce/soup weather.

Time to take stock and chop

what the garden has surrendered

each in its <place and> season.

Time to save/hoard sunshine away

on orderly, dark shelves.

Time to ponder that blanket

<tidy> over/on the footboard.

Shadows lean north

[and I <am somehow>/stand taller.]

Or [and fall long upon the pumpkins.

<Slant> glare of desert sun/summer fades/dims

as blue sky deepens,

rabbit brush bursts,

tree tips/sumacs/scrub oaks blush.

Here is the “final” version, after  word choice and reordering of the “time” clauses. 

A nibble of frost

reminds me that this is

fine tomato sauce weather.

Time to save sunshine away

on dark, orderly shelves.

Time to ponder that blanket

tidy over  the footboard.

Time to take stock and chop

what the garden has surrendered

each in its season.

Shadows lean north

and fall long upon the pumpkins.

Glare of desert summer dims

as blue sky deepens,

rabbit brush bursts,

scrub oaks blush.

Short Forms, Endings and Beginnings

I've been enjoying using shorter forms lately.  Not because they have fewer words or are easier to write; in some respects they are more difficult to write.  Short forms require you to be concise, to work within limits and still express your intent.  One of the beauties of short forms is the possibility that your work will be interpreted differently by different readers.

American Sentence (17 syllables)

Let fly the things that fasten you down. Leave space for something new to nest.

American Haiku (5,7,5 syllables)

Candles, bread and salt

So many more than 12 steps

Doors start to open.

A 2 part list poem, with the added constraint of increased line length to a climactic line, then a denouement.

I. Taking Leave

Raw nerves

Empty boxes

Wringing hands

Scattered dreams

A life reduced to anonymity

Shame and hope shoved together

Scrub away the despair

Sweep the cobwebs

Expel the demons

Free your soul

Tinny silence.

2. Settling in

Foreign smells

Creaks and bangs

Cardboard jungle

Garlic in the sweaters

Duct tape on the counters

Stigmata on my arms and legs

Beef stew on the stove

Lavender in the bath

A friendly mirror

Clean sheets

Deep sleep.

All Things End

All things end. It's often these times of change and grief that yield poetry for me.


Requiem

Ours was a time of lollipops and kisses:

We hid beneath blankets and rainbows,

and traced growing hand and footprints.

We explored the rocky river beach

and danced on Sunday mornings

to the crackle of bacon and scent of cinnamon.

This room no longer knows our names:

It clinks in its barren chinks

and sighs a hollow who at my footfall.

There are ghosts in the windows

that startle me when I pass.

Blemishes I had concealed now glare.

Pebbles dropped from bridges

leave little mark upon the water

and are carried away by the current.

Leaden rocks leave enduring ripples,

but sink and are consumed by the river bed,

buried by the refuse of time.